Why They Call It Falling
by lahmrh
Summary: When a group of Vulcans on a cultural exchange move in downstairs, Jim's friends bet him he can't seduce one of them. The last thing Jim expects is to fall in love, but Vulcan culture is strict, and he and Spock will have to battle many trials before they can reach their happy ending. K/S AU, based on the film Latter Days.
1. Part 1

Author's Note: As mentioned, the plot of this fic is (loosely) taken from the film _Latter Days._ If you enjoy the fic, I really recommend the film.

Warning for homophobia and attempted suicide.

**Part 1**

Spock stares down at the planet as the shuttle approaches, watching the buildings of San Francisco come into view. This is his fourth trip to Earth, and the first without his parents. Part of him is glad to be away from his father and his constant unvoiced disappointment, but part of him is nervous at the idea of being on his own for the first time.

With a shake of his head, he banishes the thought. He is not truly alone; he is with Stonn and the others, after all, and he sincerely doubts any of them are experiencing anxiety. Or any other emotion for that matter.

As if picking up on his thoughts, Stonn speaks. "It is very wet, this Earth."

Spock turns to see him staring out of the window, his gaze fixed on the Pacific Ocean in the distance.

"Indeed," Spock replies. "Water covers approximately seventy point eight percent of the planet's surface."

"I have heard it even falls from the sky," Sylat puts in with something approaching disgust. "I do not wish to experience such an occurrence." Beside him, Sorvan nods in agreement.

"They call it rain," Spock tells them. He has experienced it only once, a long time ago. It was his first trip to Earth at the age of six, and he was reading in the garden at the Embassy when it began to rain. The idea of water falling out of the sky was so unbelievable that he just stood there for long minutes, getting wetter and wetter. By the time his mother found him he was soaked through and his reading PADD was ruined.

Despite all of that, though, it is a pleasant memory. It was the first time he fully understood how different other worlds could be.

The pilot's voice comes over the intercom. "Please fasten your belts and prepare for landing."

The group of Vulcans cease talking and turn to face forward. They are not the only passengers on this shuttle; aside from the four of them there are eleven humans and one Andorian, all making the transfer from Lunaport.

The shuttle touches down safely, and its passengers go about the process of gathering their things and disembarking into the terminal.

Spock retrieves his bag from under the seat and follows Stonn out of the exit. He takes a deep breath as he steps out of the shuttle. He has been many places in his twenty-one years of life, but he has never found anywhere quite like Earth.

His lips twitch upwards slightly as he realises his nerves are gone. He feels almost… excited. This is what he has been waiting for, after all. A chance to interact fully with the humans, without being judged, and perhaps even learn a few things from them, all under the guise of cultural exchange.

He knows his companions are less optimistic about the idea, but right now Spock doesn't care. He has two months to learn everything he can about humans, and he plans to make every second count.

* * *

Jim lies back on the couch, letting his arm drop to his side. Officially he's supposed to be studying for a test in Warp Field Mechanics tomorrow, but since he knows from experience that he can get at least an 80 just by showing up, he's not too motivated. No, what he's actually doing right now is considering whether it's worthwhile getting changed and going out. He hasn't had sex in over a week, and he's getting antsy.

The door chimes at that moment, and Jim raises his head. It chimes again, and he rises from the couch and shuffles over to it, wondering who it could be.

The man on the other side is vaguely familiar – tall, well dressed, with pale skin and dark brown hair. "Uh," he says, blinking at Jim. "I'm looking for Nyota Uhura?"

"I'm her roommate," Jim replies. "She's not in right now, though."

"Damn," the guy says. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

Jim shrugs. "All she said was she was going out with friends."

"Damn," the guy says again. He runs a hand through his hair, and Jim follows it with his eyes, considering. The guy's pretty attractive, and he's right here…

"You can come in and wait if you want," he suggests idly.

The guy looks up. "Really?"

"Sure." Jim flashes him a smile. "I don't mind." He waves a hand behind him at the apartment.

The guy glances over his shoulder, then steps past Jim into the apartment.

"Make yourself comfortable," Jim says, as he shuts the door behind them.

The guy sits down on the couch, and Jim sits beside him, a little closer than would normally be comfortable.

"So," he says. "I know you came here for Uhura, but the way I see it, there's no reason you and I can't have some fun in the meantime." Grinning, he gives the guy a blatant up and down look, and a wink.

It isn't long before they're in bed, clothes strewn about and hands roaming. In the end, the guy decides not to wait for Uhura, and Jim goes back to lazing on the couch with a grin.

He loves his life.

x x x

Jim is awoken the next morning by a cushion landing on his head. He pulls it off and sits up, blinking in the light from the doorway. Slowly the world comes into focus and he sees Uhura standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

"You," she says, eyes narrowing.

Jim pulls the covers closer and tries to look innocent. "What did I do?"

Uhura marches over and grabs the cushion, drawing back as if she's about to hit him with it. Jim ducks.

"You fucked my ex-boyfriend."

Jim blinks at her. "Amos?" He doesn't remember that.

She waves the cushion at him in frustration. "Not Amos. Do you listen to anything I say?" Before Jim can answer, she continues, "I meant _Nick_."

Now Jim does remember. "Oh, you mean the guy last night?" he asks. "I thought he looked familiar."

Uhura stares at him in disbelief. "You mean you fucked my ex-boyfriend and _didn't even notice_?"

"Hey, it's not like I asked for his name."

That earns him a cushion to the face, but in his opinion it was totally worth it. Despite her actions, he can tell Uhura isn't really angry with him. When she's pissed off she does things like dismantle the snooze button on his alarm clock or change all his music to Tellarite opera. Cushion assault is just how they communicate.

"All right," he says, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"Yes, you will," Uhura mutters, but there's a faint smile around her mouth as she rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, probably," Jim admits with a shrug.

Uhura gives him one last whack with the cushion, then tucks it under one arm. "So how was it?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.

Jim considers it, then makes a so-so gesture. "Six out of ten."

"Huh," Uhura replies. "I would've given him five." At Jim's look she smirks and adds, "Why d'you think I broke up with him?"

With a wink, she turns to leave. She pauses at the door and turns back long enough to add, "Don't forget we're meeting at Scotty's place tonight for his birthday dinner."

"I know, I'll be there," Jim assures her. Scotty throws the _best_ parties, full of mayhem and every type of alcohol he can think of, but currently his sister is visiting, along with his three-year-old nephew, so the plan is a little more sedate. Jim's still looking forward to it, though.

He showers and dresses, then makes his way into the kitchen to find Uhura staring out of the window, holding a mug. "What's up?"

She glances at him, then turns back to the window. "Looks like we're getting some new neighbours."

"Really?" Jim hurries across to look. Sure enough, there's a group of four guys systematically lugging giant bags from the street into the building. "Huh. I wonder if they're taking the Hendersons' place."

The Hendersons were an elderly couple who lived on the first floor until they moved out a few months ago to go live nearer to their grandchildren. Their apartment has been empty since then, and Jim was beginning to think it would stay that way.

"Probably," Uhura replies. She drains the last of her coffee and smoothes down her uniform. "I have to go. I promised Ling I'd look over her Andorian essay before class."

"Okay," Jim says, still watching the guys moving around several floors below. "See you tonight."

He hovers there for a long moment after he hears the door shut, wondering about the new neighbours. Just as he's about to turn away, one of them looks up suddenly, and even though he's four floors up Jim swears their eyes meet. Then the guy turns away and the moment is gone.

Jim watches for a few seconds longer, then begins making himself some breakfast. For some reason he feels oddly unsettled by the situation, and he can't figure out why.

x x x

As he expected, Jim breezes through his test, and through the rest of his classes that day. He logs a few hours in the computer lab working on his programming project, then heads home to change before setting out for Scotty's.

He arrives to find most of his friends have beaten him to it, including Uhura who is sitting on the couch deep in conversation with Scotty's sister. The three-year-old nephew is lying on the floor next to them colouring.

Jim makes a beeline for the kitchen and finds Scotty cursing at the oven. "I don't think this thing is hot enough," Scotty complains.

Jim shrugs, hopping up onto a counter. "You're an engineer. Why can't you fix it?"

Scotty glares at him. "I work with warp cores and transporters, not ovens. It's nae the same thing and you know it."

"Yeah," Jim agrees. "I just like seeing that look on your face." He digs a small package out of his pocket and tosses it in his direction. "Happy birthday, by the way."

Scotty tears off the paper to reveal a computer tape. Jim watches as he reads the label, then looks up wide eyed. "Blueprints to the _Enterprise_? How'd you get these?"

Jim shrugs, grinning. "I have my ways."

Scotty grins back. "Well, thanks, Jim! This is brilliant."

McCoy walks in at that moment. "I'm going to give you a little tip, Scotty," he says, "The words 'Jim' and 'brilliant' should never be that close together."

"You act grumpy, but you're not fooling anyone," Jim tells him, still grinning. "They all know you love me."

McCoy rolls his eyes. "That's just the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in." He digs in the bag he's holding and hands over a large wrapped package. "Happy birthday."

Scotty unwraps this one to find a large bottle of scotch. "Och, Leonard, you shouldn't have."

"Then I'll take it back," McCoy jokes, reaching out.

Scotty wraps his arms around the bottle protectively. "You'll do nothing of the sort." He strokes the glass gently, then says, "I'll just put 'er with the others," and disappears into the pantry.

Sulu is the last to arrive, gifting Scotty with a large flowery plant. According to him, it's a new breed, specially cultivated. Jim doesn't know much about plants – except corn, because even he couldn't grow up in Iowa without learning a shitload of boring facts about that – but it looks pretty, and Scotty seems to like it. His nephew likes it more, stroking its leaves and chattering to it excitedly.

It occurs to Jim that he has no idea what present Uhura brought, and a quick discussion with Scotty reveals it's a scarf. One which she knitted herself, judging from the state of it. "Wow, dude," Jim says, vaguely impressed. "She must really like you. For my last birthday she gave me a tape of Megazoid ritual chanting." It's actually oddly hypnotic. Jim sometimes uses it as a sleep aid, but he'd never tell Uhura that.

Scotty goes a little red, but he doesn't say anything.

Despite Scotty's arguments with the oven, the meal is excellent. Scotty's nephew goes to bed right afterwards, and his sister retreats not long after, probably to enjoy some time to herself. By mutual agreement the five friends move to the living room to talk, and drink.

"Did Jim tell you about our new neighbours?" Uhura asks, before taking a sip from her glass of wine.

There's a chorus of 'no's and she smiles. "A bunch of guys moved into apartment 103 this morning. Jim and I saw them out the window." She glances over at Jim, as if looking for confirmation. He nods, and she continues, "Anyway, I went home this afternoon to get changed, and ran into a couple of them. And you'll never guess what?" She pauses, soaking up the attention.

"What?" Sulu asks obediently.

Uhura leans forward like she's imparting a secret. "They're Vulcans."

"No way," Jim blurts. "Why the hell would Vulcans be moving into our building?"

"Apparently they're on some kind of cultural exchange trip," Uhura answers. "They were pretty busy so we could only talk for a minute or two, but they said they might stop by sometime tomorrow to meet us properly."

There's silence for a moment after she finishes speaking.

McCoy is the first one to break it. "Well, this should be interesting," he says. "I don't know who to feel sorrier for, Jim or the Vulcans."

Jim rolls his eyes. "Shut up. I'll have them eating out of my hand, just you wait and see."

Uhura gives a snort of laughter. "I don't think your usual approach is going to work here, Jim."

Sulu grins. "Yep. No way in hell you can charm a _Vulcan_ into bed."

That sounds like a challenge, and Jim has never backed down from a challenge in his life. "You wanna bet?" he asks.

Sulu stares at him. "Seriously?"

Jim nods firmly. "Yeah. I bet you fifty credits I can get one of them into bed." He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms, waiting for Sulu's response.

"I'll take that bet," McCoy puts in. "You're good, Jim, but you're not that good."

Jim glares at him, but is quickly distracted by Scotty. "How would we know you did it though?" he asks. "We'd need proof."

The group lapses into silence as they all ponder that.

"You could take a picture of his dick," Sulu suggests. "I've always wondered what Vulcan dick looks like."

"You would," McCoy mutters under his breath.

"I dunno," Scotty puts in, "it sounds like a decent idea to me."

Jim looks round at each person in turn. Uhura looks dubious, but she isn't raising any objections. Scotty and Sulu are in favour, and McCoy just shrugs. "All right then," Jim says. "I get one of the Vulcans naked, snap a picture of his junk, and each of you owes me fifty credits." He laces his hands behind his head. "Piece of cake."

"We'll see," Sulu replies, before changing the subject. "Anyway, did any of you hear about Commander X'riti? Turns out he's pregnant."

The conversation moves on, and Jim puts all questions as to _how_ he's going to get one of his Vulcan neighbours naked to the back of his mind. As far as he's concerned, that's tomorrow's problem.

x x x

As promised, the Vulcans come round for a visit the next afternoon. Or two of them do, at least.

Uhura and Jim are both in at the time, so they invite the two in for a drink. The Vulcans introduce themselves as Spock and Stonn, and Spock offers a box of incense sticks as a gift. From the way Uhura looks at them, Jim suspects he's going to have to fight her for them. Not that he's all that interested in incense, but it's the principle of the thing.

When they're settled in the living room with coffee (for the humans) and tea (for the Vulcans), Jim decides he might as well make a head start on charming his new neighbours.

"So, what brings you guys to Earth?" he asks.

"We are here to gain a deeper understanding of human culture and experiences, in the hope of improving relations between our planets," Spock replies. "If the experiment is successful, I believe there is a plan for a small group of humans to come to Vulcan in a reciprocal arrangement."

"It is also our intent to share information on Vulcan culture and experience," Stonn adds.

"Oh, I'd love to hear more about that," Jim says. "I've always been interested in Vulcans."

A pair of eyebrows raise, and Uhura gives him an exasperated look.

"Your interest is commendable," Spock says. "I will lend you some literature."

Jim nearly blurts out that he'd prefer a more hands on approach, but bites his tongue. These are Vulcans; his usual approach is not going to work on them. If he wants to win this bet he'll have to move slowly. Gain their trust.

"That'd be great," he says instead.

Stonn looks from him to Uhura and back. "Are the two of you romantically involved?" he asks.

"God no," Uhura snorts. "What gave you that idea?"

"On Vulcan a male and female living together would be assumed to be either bonded or family."

"Well, we're not," Jim assures him, before it occurs to him that he can spin this to his advantage. "To start with, I prefer guys." Stretching the truth just a tad, but he doubts Uhura will call him on it. "What does Vulcan culture say about that?"

Stonn stiffens, a look of disapproval crossing his face. "Humans may do what they like, but no Vulcan would form a relationship with one of their own sex. It is illogical."

Jim's eyes flick over to Spock. He doesn't say anything, but his expression isn't any more inviting than Stonn's. Jim sighs inwardly. Clearly this is going to be harder than he thought.

The Vulcans leave soon after, citing their wish to meet with other neighbours. Jim throws in an offer to call on him if they need anything, but he isn't totally confident that they'll take him up on it.

"Looks like you've got your work cut out for you," Uhura tells him with a hint of smugness.

Jim glares at her. "Oh, you just wait. I've got a lot of tricks up my sleeve."

"We'll see," she says serenely, before taking the incense and heading to her room.

Jim grits his teeth and strides towards his own room. He has a new game plan to draw up. He's going to win this thing if it's the last thing he does.

* * *

Spock finds himself fascinated by Earth, and humans particularly. He and the others spend their first full day after moving in introducing themselves to their neighbours, most of whom seem to welcome them. He and Stonn start on the fourth floor with the human woman Stonn encountered the day before.

Uhura and her companion Jim are slightly strange, but treat him and Stonn well. Spock finds himself discomforted by Stonn's reaction to Jim's question about homosexual relationships, but cannot articulate why. In the end he decides not to think about it.

A few days after their meeting with Jim and Uhura, they go out to explore the city. Occasionally they strike up a conversation with willing humans and discuss the differences between Vulcan and human culture, but more often they just explore and take the opportunity to learn what they can about humans and Earth in general.

On their second day of exploration Spock and Stonn have just come from the Natural History Museum and are passing a hospital when they come across a man sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. Stonn passes without a word, as if the man is below notice, but Spock stops, some urge telling him to attempt to interact with the man.

Stonn carries on a few paces before he seems to realise Spock isn't following. He turns and looks at Spock, a question in his eyes.

Spock steps forward and says in a low voice, "Do you see that man?"

Stonn's gaze flicks to the bench and back. "Indeed. What is your point?"

"He appears to be in distress," Spock says. "Should we not attempt to assist him?"

"What would we do?" Stonn asks. "He is likely suffering from some kind of human emotional imbalance and would be better assisted by one of his own kind."

Stonn does have a point, but something in Spock rebels at the idea of just leaving. "I am going to speak with him," he says.

Stonn gives him an incredulous look, but doesn't argue. Spock leaves him standing on the sidewalk while he approaches the bench.

"Excuse me?" he offers hesitantly, and the man looks up. His eyes are red, a symptom that Spock has learned means recent crying among humans, but there is no visible sign of tears.

"Yes?" the man asks. "Can I help you?"

Spock is beginning to think that Stonn may have had a point, but he's too far gone to draw back now. "I was wondering if you were in need of assistance."

"Oh," the man replies. "Thank you, but no."

Spock takes in the fact that they are currently outside of a hospital and makes an educated guess. "Did you recently receive some bad news?"

"You could say that," the man replies. He shakes his head. "Not about me, though. A friend of mine."

"I grieve with thee," Spock replies solemnly.

To his surprise, his words seem to have a positive effect. "Thank you," the man says. "What's your name?"

"Spock," Spock tells him.

"Spock," the man repeats. "No last name?"

"You could not pronounce it," Spock replies.

The man smiles faintly. "I'll take your word for it. I'm Christopher Pike." He nods at something over Spock's shoulder and Spock turns to see he's looking at Stonn. "Is that your friend?"

It is a human term, but Spock supposes it is close enough. "You could say that."

"Looks like he's waiting for you." At Spock's hesitant look, he adds, "I'll be fine. But thank you for your concern."

"You are welcome," Spock replies, the words sounding strange in his mouth. "The situation with your friend is unfortunate."

"You're telling me," Pike replies. "Nearly twenty years in Starfleet and this is how it ends."

"You are in Starfleet?" Spock asks, curious.

Pike nods. "Why, are you interested in joining up?"

Spock shakes his head, although he is not certain that is entirely the truth.

"Pity," Pike says, studying him. "You'd be a good addition." He conjures a card from somewhere in his clothing and hands it over. "Here, take this, and if you ever change your mind, look me up."

"I shall do so," Spock replies, not bothering to point out that the probability is remote.

Pike waves a hand. "Go on, go be with your friend. I should probably get going anyway."

Spock nods, then, with a last look at him, heads back over to Stonn.

"Sometimes I do not understand your choices," Stonn says when they are once again on the move. His tone is chiding and Spock suspects any explanation of his actions will only lead to further chastisement. Still, when he fingers the card in his pocket, he cannot bring himself to regret his choice.

x x x

The next day, Spock feels restless and decides to go for a walk after dinner. His companions are interested in watching a human documentary and so choose not to accompany him. It is the first time Spock has been fully alone since he left Vulcan and it is a strange, but not entirely unpleasant, experience.

He has barely left the building, however, when he is waylaid by a shout. He turns to see one of their neighbours, Jim, approaching him.

"Hey," Jim greets, when he gets close. "You're Spock, right?"

"That is correct," Spock replies. "And you are Jim."

Jim smiles. It makes his eyes light up. "You remembered!"

Spock raises an eyebrow at the illogical comment. "You were able to recall my name. I am not sure why you are so surprised at the reverse."

Jim just stares at him for a moment. "Wow." He shakes his head. "Anyway, I just wanted to say hi." He glances at the building, then back at Spock before shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, what're you doing?"

"I had intended to take a walk," Spock replies.

"Oh." Jim nods. "Okay." He glances around again. "Do you want some company?"

Spock's instinct is to say no, but he hesitates. This may be a good opportunity to learn more about human culture, and a good scientist never turns down opportunities to learn. "I am not averse," he says instead. "You may accompany me if you wish."

"Great," Jim replies. He pulls one hand out of his pocket and gestures vaguely at the sidewalk. "Let's go then."

Spock raises his eyebrow again, but obediently heads down the path to the sidewalk.

"So, did you have anywhere in mind?" Jim asks, as they make their way down the street.

Spock shakes his head. "It was my intention to explore the neighbourhood."

"Well, I can help you with that," Jim assures him.

"How long have you lived here?" Spock asks curiously.

Jim frowns. "Almost a year? I couldn't get a place in the dorms, so Uhura and I agreed to share a place off campus."

"Campus?"

Jim glances at him. "Starfleet. Didn't Uhura tell you?"

"No," Spock replies, taking a moment to assimilate this new information. It appears Starfleet is going to be the subject of the week. "Do you enjoy your time at the Academy?"

"Mostly," Jim says with a shrug. "The classes are pretty hard, but I kind of like that. First place I've ever really felt challenged, you know?"

Spock does not know. Vulcan education is set to the level of the student so as to always be challenging. Apparently human education is organised differently. He makes a mental note to perform further research into this area.

"So, is there anything you want to know about humans?" Jim asks, drawing Spock's attention back to him. At Spock's look he adds, "You said you were trying to learn more about human culture."

"Ah," Spock replies. "Yes." He searches his mind for a suitable question and decides on, "What recreational activities do you engage in?

For some reason Jim looks amused by his question. "All kinds of things. Go to bars, hang out with my friends, watch movies, play video games. Oh, and sex. That counts, right?"

Spock nearly stops in his tracks at the abrupt change in topic. Part of him marvels at the casualness of Jim's tone. No Vulcan would ever speak of sexual activity as though it were no different than watching a movie. Among his kind it is a private and intimate thing, meant only for one's bondmate. He knew on an intellectual level that intercourse is viewed with less importance among humans, likely due to their differing biology, but it is still strange to hear it for himself.

He doesn't have long to dwell on the thought, however, as Jim shoots him a sidelong glance and asks, "What about you?"

"Me?" Spock asks in confusion.

Jim looks amused again. "Yes, you. Or at least Vulcans in general. What do you do for fun?"

"Fun is a human concept," Spock replies.

Jim stares at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious." Before Spock can respond he shakes his head and adds, "Fine. What 'recreational activities' do you like? What do you do to relax?"

"I meditate," Spock tells him.

"That's it?" Jim asks, looking unimpressed.

Spock puzzles over the question for a moment, then offers, "I play the ka'athyra." At Jim's look of confusion he adds, "The Vulcan lyre."

Jim's face clears. "Oh, so you're a musician." Spock opens his mouth to say that he would not put it that way, but is stopped by Jim continuing, "I love music. I don't think I've ever heard any from Vulcan, though." He studies Spock for a moment. "Did you bring your kathira with you?"

"Ka'athyra," Spock corrects. "And no. Our baggage allowance was limited, and there were other items to pack that I judged more important." He pauses, then adds, "I was also concerned that it would become damaged during the voyage."

Jim nods. "Yeah, I could see that. It's a pity, though. I would've liked to hear you play." He grins suddenly.

The grin gives Spock a strange feeling in his chest, and he looks away. Looking around at the scenery, it occurs to him that he is not exactly achieving his purpose of getting to know the neighbourhood. He has been so focused on his conversation with Jim that he could not even reliably recount the path they have taken to get here.

Jim catches him looking around and stops. "You want to go back?"

Spock checks the time. It is later than he thought, and the others will likely be finishing their documentary by now. "I believe that would be a good idea," he says.

"Okay," Jim says amiably, and turns back the way they came. "If you want, we can take a different route back and I can show you around a bit more."

Spock considers it for a moment. The others will not expect him back straight away. He has time for a slight detour. "That would be acceptable," he agrees.

"Great, "Jim replies. "Follow me."

x x x

By the time they get back to the apartment building, Jim and Spock have travelled around most of the neighbourhood, and Spock has learned many potentially useful things about human culture and interaction.

"Your assistance was appreciated," Spock tells Jim as they reach his apartment.

Jim grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. "No problem." He glances upwards, then adds, "Do you want to come up for a drink or something?"

Spock shakes his head. "My companions will be expecting me."

Jim nods. "Oh, okay. Maybe another time?" He looks hopeful.

"Perhaps," Spock allows. His time with Jim has proved to be enlightening, and he does not see any harm in continuing their acquaintance.

Jim's grin returns full force. "Great." Swiftly, before Spock can react, he reaches out a hand and slaps Spock's shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" he asks, then the hand is gone and he is heading for the elevator.

Spock stares after him. Jim's last words were phrased as a question, but he did not wait to hear the answer. Curious. Clearly there are aspects of human conversation he has yet to master.

With a mental shake, he turns and enters the apartment.

* * *

Jim runs into Spock once or twice over the next few days, but it's always when one or the other of them is too busy to do more than say hi. Occasionally he also catches sight of one of the other Vulcans, but they're much less sociable than Spock, acknowledging his greetings with a raised eyebrow or toneless response.

Jim decides to keep trying – he always has liked a challenge – but it's becoming clear to him that his best shot at winning the bet will be to focus on Spock.

On the day he gets his Warp Field Mechanics test back – a 92, not too shabby – he heads over to the library and begins research into 'Things Vulcans Like'.

Several hours later he comes up for air having learned little of use. Vulcans don't seem to 'like' anything, except maybe logic. Spock mentioned music, but even that seems to be mostly a matter of skill and mathematics rather than fun.

With a sigh, he packs up his things and heads home. He may have hit a brick wall with this idea, but he isn't about to give up. He'll just have to come up with a different plan.

x x x

As it happens, his next chance to get closer to Spock comes entirely by accident. He's up on the roof, lying on his back on a blanket as he waits for a promised meteor shower to start, when he hears the elevator door slide open.

He sits up and looks over in time to see Spock step out onto the roof. Spock catches sight of him and stops, then comes over to him, looking slightly awkward. "I hope I am not intruding," he says, stopping at the edge of Jim's blanket. "I did not expect anyone else to be up here."

Jim shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. It's a free roof after all."

Spock's eyebrows bunch together in puzzlement at his words, and Jim has to hide a smile. It's strangely adorable.

"I was planning on watching the meteor shower," Jim says. "It's supposed to start any minute now."

"Indeed," Spock replies, sounding slightly surprised. "That is why I came up here too."

This time Jim doesn't bother hiding his grin. "Guess we can watch it together then," he says.

He shifts over on the blanket and gestures to Spock to sit down. "Come on," he prods, when Spock hesitates. "You can't be planning to stand the entire time?"

From the look Spock gives him Jim suspects that was exactly what he was planning, but he seems to yield to the argument and sits. Jim grins at him before flopping onto his back.

There is silence for a moment as they both contemplate the sky. But Jim has never really been one for silence, and it isn't long before he speaks again. "You know," he begins, "when I asked you what Vulcans do for fun you didn't say anything about stargazing."

"That would be because it is not for fun," Spock replies, a little primly. "It is an intellectual exercise."

That's kind of sad, if it's true, but there's something in Spock's tone that makes Jim wonder. Drawing on his instincts, he decides to play a hunch. "You don't believe that."

"I was not aware clairvoyance was a human ability," Spock replies with a hint of sarcasm, and Jim nearly laughs. This is a side of Spock he could get to like.

"No, but seriously," he continues. "If you just wanted to learn about stars, meteors, whatever, you could look at a computer file. Coming up here in the cold so you can see them with your naked eyes is a whole different thing that has nothing to do with any 'intellectual exercise'."

Spock pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, staring up at the sky. "They look different from Earth," he says.

It's a blatant attempt to change the subject, but Jim decides not to call him on it. He still thinks he's right about Spock's motives, though.

"How so?" he asks instead.

Spock frowns slightly, as if thinking. "The atmosphere is different here. Thicker. And there is far more light pollution."

Jim shrugs. "That's the city. You go out into the sticks, away from civilisation, and you can see pretty much everything." He remembers back in Riverside, lying out in the fields with Sam when they were little. Before he left.

"Indeed?" Spock replies. "I shall keep that in mind."

Jim glances up at the sky again. "Can you see Vulcan's star from here?" he asks.

He sees Spock nod out of the corner of his eye and turns to look at him as he raises an arm to the sky and points. "It is that one there," Spock says.

Jim shifts closer and tries to follow where he's pointing. "I think I see it," he says. "I guess it must be weird for you; to have it look like just another star."

"Mildly," Spock admits. "When I was very young my mother pointed out Sol to me in the sky, and I was… stunned at how small it seemed. Now my own sun is just as small."

There's something in his tone that Jim can't quite identify, almost a longing. Jim goes to lay a hand on his arm, but takes it away when Spock stiffens. Before they can say more, the first meteors begin streaking across the sky. With a sigh, Jim lies back on his blanket and settles in to watch.

No matter how many showers like this he watches, he doesn't think he'll ever get used to them. It's things like this that made him want to join Starfleet, even way back before he ever believed he would. He glances over at Spock and is gratified to find him staring at the sky with the same sense of wonder.

At some point during their sky-watching party, Spock slips down until he is lying next to Jim. Jim suspects he was developing a crick in his neck or something, but doesn't comment. They lie there, less than an arm's length apart, silently watching the sky, for what seems like hours.

They don't touch, barely speak, but it's still one of the best nights Jim has ever had.

x x x

The next day, Jim is half-heartedly working on an essay for his Ethics class (sometimes being a command track student _really sucks_) when the door chimes. Glad for a chance to take a break, he tosses down his PADD and stretches before heading for the door.

It turns out to be Spock. Jim just stares at him for a moment, then his brain kicks in and he smiles broadly. "Spock! What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

Spock's eyebrows bunch in confusion at his words. "Your neck of the woods?"

Jim laughs. "I meant, what are you doing here?"

"Ah," Spock replies, looking as though he's filing the explanation away for further reference. "I would like to visit the ocean."

"Okay…" Jim replies slowly. "And?"

Spock clasps his hands behind his back. "I wondered if you would accompany me."

Jim takes a second to process that, then springs into action. "Yes! Sure! Just give me a second to grab my stuff."

He shoves a credit chip into the back pocket of his jeans, pulls on his jacket, and grabs his communicator. Then he joins Spock outside the apartment, locking the door behind him. "Lead on," he says.

Spock raises an eyebrow, but does so.

x x x

Some time later, they're leaning against a handrail, staring out at the water. "It is so big," Spock murmurs. "On Vulcan a body of water is considered large if you cannot easily see the other side. The idea that it could cover almost half the world is difficult to believe."

"I know what you mean," Jim says. He shrugs as Spock turns to look at him. "Maybe not exactly, but I grew up in Iowa, a thousand miles from any ocean. It seemed pretty unbelievable to me too, until I saw it." He smiles a little, shrugging. "I never was one to take things on faith."

"Is that the reason you chose to join Starfleet?" Spock asks.

Jim chews on his bottom lip, wondering how much to tell him. "A little, yeah. After what happened to my dad I thought I'd never join up, but I don't regret it. It feels right, you know?"

"Your father was in Starfleet?"

Jim blinks at him. It's kind of refreshing to meet someone who doesn't know his history. "Yeah. George Kirk, of the _Kelvin_."

He can see Spock's eyes widen as he makes the connection. "Ah," he says, then, tentatively, "I meant no offence."

"It's okay," Jim says. "It's not like I ever really knew him." All he's ever had are stories and pictures and other people's grief.

They lapse into silence, and Jim decides a change of subject is in order. "So, tell me about Vulcan. If I'm going to teach you all about Earth, I think I should get to learn some stuff too."

Spock's brow furrows. "I am not sure where to begin," he admits.

Jim leans against the handrail and crosses his arms. "How about with you? We've been spending all this time together and I hardly know anything about you."

"There is not much to tell," Spock replies. "I grew up in ShiKahr, the capital, and attended the customary schooling there. When I had completed my studies I applied for a place at the Vulcan Science Academy and was accepted. I will begin my position there as soon as I return."

Jim frowns. Leave it to a Vulcan to tell their entire life story in less than thirty seconds and leave out all the interesting stuff. But before he can explain that that wasn't what he meant, it starts to rain. Heavily.

Jim swears and grabs Spock's wrist. "Come on," he says, and together they run for cover.

They take shelter under an awning, looking out at the rain. "I think it's just a shower," Jim says, studying the sky. "We can wait here until it stops."

Spock makes a small noise that might be an agreement. His hair is plastered to his head, and his arms are crossed over his chest as if he's cold. Jim doesn't think he's ever seen a Vulcan look so obviously miserable before.

"I guess it doesn't rain a lot on Vulcan," he says.

"Almost never," Spock agrees. "It is also… considerably warmer."

Jim studies him for a moment, thinking. "Why'd you come here?" he asks softly. "It's so different from everything you knew."

For once Spock doesn't pretend to misunderstand. "I was curious," he says. "I wished to learn more about Earth and humanity than could be gained from a textbook. And…" He trails off, looking suddenly wary.

"And… what?" Jim asks.

Spock turns away, looking out at the rain. "I hoped to learn more about myself."

"Yourself?"

Spock nods. His next words are halting, uncertain. "I am… half human."

Of all the things he expected Spock to say, that wasn't one of them. "Seriously?"

Spock's back stiffens. "Vulcans do not lie."

Jim considers pointing out that he just said he was only half Vulcan, but decides against it. "I didn't mean I thought you were lying," he says instead. "I was just surprised." He studies Spock again, looking for clues, and can't find any. As far as Jim can tell he looks just like any other Vulcan. "So, your… mom's human?" he asks, taking a guess.

Spock nods.

"And your dad's a Vulcan."

Spock gives him a faintly disbelieving look. "Obviously."

"Huh," Jim says intelligently. "That's cool. How'd they meet?"

"My mother was a teacher in San Francisco. She was accompanying her class to a museum when they ran into my father. Literally, for one child. My father was… not pleased by this turn of events, but he was intrigued enough by my mother's apologies and explanations to offer to accompany the class around the museum. By the end of the day he had become quite attached. My mother likes to say it was love at first sight, but I assume that to be an exaggeration."

"Sounds like a good story," Jim says.

"Indeed," Spock replies. He gestures out at the weather and adds, "I believe the rain is stopping."

Jim turns to look. "I think you're right," he says. "Do you want to head back?"

Spock gives a sharp nod. "I would like to get out of these clothes." He waves a damp sleeve in emphasis.

Several double entendres leap to Jim's mind, but he manages to fight them back. "Come on then," he says, and steps out from under the awning. Spock follows, and together they begin making their way back to the apartment block, hurrying to avoid the rain.


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

Even with their inopportune soaking, Spock cannot bring himself to regret asking Jim to come with him to look at the ocean. It was a somewhat spur-of-the-moment decision, but the knowledge he gained from Jim, and of Jim, reassures him that it was the right one. Jim is utterly unlike anyone Spock has previously encountered, but he is learning that that is not necessarily a bad thing. Jim is clearly intelligent, if somewhat overzealous, and he treats Spock with an easy affection that has been lacking in his life up until now.

Spock still spends most of his time with his fellow Vulcans, exploring, learning, and generally interacting with humans, but he makes sure to carve out a small amount of time for Jim, even if it is as simple as asking how his day has gone. (He reasons that it is a useful opportunity to practice the human art of 'small talk', and says as much to Stonn when he comments on Spock's attention to the human.) Jim is always willing to talk, and more than once suggests another trip out, to show Spock some more of the city. His easy warmth is difficult to resist, and Spock cannot help but admit he has become quite attached. He suspects it will be difficult to leave Jim when it becomes time to return home.

But just as Spock is beginning to develop a genuine affection for Jim, events conspire to show him a different side of his human companion.

* * *

Jim has always enjoyed tinkering with things. When he was six he took apart his child's PADD to see how it worked. Unfortunately he hadn't quite mastered putting it back together, and his mother was not happy. The part he remembers best, though, is after she calmed down, when she sat with him and helped him to fix it. It's still one of his happiest memories.

Right now he's in a garage behind their apartment building, working on restoring an old hoverbike he bought from a guy in one of his classes. It's in semi-decent condition, but it needs a good cleaning and several of the parts are worn out and need to be replaced. Jim's been working on it for a few weeks now, in his free time, and he's making good progress.

He's adjusting the power cell when his screwdriver slips and tears through his jeans and into his leg. Jim stares blankly at the wound for a moment, watching blood begin to pour out, before the pain hits him and he swears and bursts into action.

He tears off his overshirt and turns it inside out before pressing it to the wound on his thigh. He has medical supplies in his apartment – the amount of scrapes he gets into it's just easier to fix himself up most of the time – but first he's going to have to get there.

Keeping the shirt pressed to his leg like a compress, dressed only in jeans and an undershirt, he stands and makes his way out of the garage towards the apartment block.

He is about twenty feet from the doorway when the door opens and Spock steps out. "Jim," he greets, before his gaze falls to Jim's leg and he frowns. "You are injured."

"Yeah," Jim agrees. "Caught myself with a screwdriver."

Spock raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment. Jim is oddly grateful for that. Bones would be calling him an idiot by now. "Are you in need of medical assistance?"

Jim shakes his head. "I'll be fine. It's not that deep." A sudden swell of pain makes him gasp. "But do you think maybe you could help me up to my apartment?"

Spock nods, then takes his arm and begins leading him inside. Jim manages to keep his surprise from showing on his face, but the significance of the action isn't lost on him. Spock doesn't like to touch, and usually avoids any contact with Jim. He's certainly never initiated it.

_Maybe I'm just that pathetic right now_, he muses wryly. Still, he isn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this is what it takes for Spock to touch him, he's prepared to go with it.

Spock accompanies him up to his apartment, and then inside. "Is your roommate home?" he asks, as Jim lowers himself into a chair in the kitchen.

"Nah," Jim replies, shaking his head. "She's off on some track meet for the Academy running team." He braces himself, then pulls the shirt away from his leg to inspect the damage. Fresh blood flows from the wound, adding to the hand-sized patch on his pants. "Dammit," he says. "I liked these jeans."

"Are you certain you do not need medical attention?" Spock asks, a definite note of concern in his voice.

"Yeah," Jim replies. "Trust me; it looks worse than it is." He waves a hand vaguely behind him. "There's a regenerator in the bathroom. Could you get it?"

Spock doesn't look convinced, but obediently goes to fetch the regenerator. Jim takes the opportunity to – carefully – slide his jeans down enough to get a proper look at his leg. The gash is bleeding steadily, but he stands by his original assertion that it's not that deep. Good thing, too, because he hates hospitals.

Spock reappears with the device and places it on the table within Jim's reach. Even with the situation the way it is Jim doesn't miss the way Spock's gaze falls on his bare thighs and then flickers away as if in embarrassment. _Fascinating._

Still, right now he has other things to think about. With a practiced hand, he runs the regenerator over the wound, once to sterilise and then again to seal. It takes three passes of the sealer for the injury to fully disappear, but Jim's learned not to worry unless he goes past five.

"There, see?" he says, glancing up at Spock. "Told you I could handle it." He looks down at his leg and wrinkles his nose. "I'm just going to take a shower and wash all this blood off. Thanks for your help."

He stands up to pull up his jeans, and has to grab the table as a wave of dizziness washes over him. "Whoa."

He feels Spock's hand on his elbow, steadying him. "Perhaps you should lie down," he suggests.

"Yeah," Jim agrees, not even bothering to argue. "Help me into the bedroom?"

By the time he's settled horizontal on the bed, he's feeling a lot better. He realises his jeans are still at half-mast and blushes as he pulls them up.

"Are you feeling better?" Spock asks.

Jim nods. "Yeah. Thanks."

Spock hovers by the side of the bed, looking vaguely awkward. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Jim looks up into his face, filled with barely visible concern, and finds himself blurting out, "Would you just sit with me for a while?"

Spock raises an eyebrow, then nods slowly. "That would be acceptable."

"You don't have anywhere else to be?" Jim asks.

"Nothing of importance." Spock looks around, probably for a chair, and gives Jim a dubious look when he shifts over and pats the bed beside him. Jim gives him his best 'puppy-dog eyes' and Spock relents.

It's… nice, in a way, being close like this. Jim can't even remember the last time he shared a bed with someone he wasn't having sex with. _Although_, he thinks, _there's still time_…

He glances at Spock just in time to see his gaze slide down his body. Spock's eyes meet his and Jim can see a faint green flush cross his cheeks as he looks away.

Jim's heart speeds up. Even as he convinced himself Spock was interested in him, part of him thought he was just reading into things. But there's no reading into this.

Carefully, holding his breath, he reaches out and covers Spock's hand with his own.

Spock's breath hitches at the contact, but he doesn't pull away.

"I like you, you know," Jim says softly. "A lot."

"I know," Spock replies, barely audible. "And I…." He trails off, the greenness in his cheeks deepening.

"You like me too," Jim finishes.

Spock's eyes flick to him, and then away. "Yes." He looks down at the floor, a troubled expression on his face. "But… I cannot…."

"It's okay," Jim tells him. "It's just us here." He places his other hand on Spock's knee, rubbing it gently. "I can make you feel good," he promises. "You don't have to do anything, just lie back and let me take care of you."

He can see Spock begin to weaken. "Vulcans do not- It is _forbidden_-"

"Shh," Jim interrupts him. "Don't think about that. It's just sex, okay? Two people making each other feel good. It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to."

He knows immediately that it's the wrong thing to say. Far from relaxing further, Spock stiffens, turning to him with an expression of sheer disbelief.

"Is that truly what you believe?" he asks sharply. "That sexual activity is meaningless?"

It's Jim's turn to stammer. "Not- not _meaningless_, just-"

"Just a temporary diversion," Spock finishes for him. "Of no more importance than any other pastime." He shakes his head, pulling away from Jim and standing up. "I cannot believe that I thought-" He cuts himself off, shaking his head again. Jim's chest aches.

"Spock, don't-"

Spock continues as if he hasn't spoken. "On Vulcan, sexual activity is the very opposite of meaningless. It is an intimacy shared only between those who are fully committed to one another, who have joined their very souls. And to think I considered engaging in such acts with someone like you, who does not even seem to know the meaning of commitment."

Jim feels like he's been slapped in the face. "Now wait a minute-"

Spock cuts him off again. "I must go." And without so much as a look back at Jim, he leaves.

Jim thinks about going after him, but in the end just punches his pillow before flopping back on his bed. He has no idea how he's going to make this right.

x x x

He and Spock still exchange greetings, but they're much quicker and shallower. Jim is still kind of smarting from the things Spock said to him, but he can't deny there's a grain of truth to it. If he'd known how important sex was to Vulcans, and especially to Spock, he never would have made that stupid bet, and he certainly wouldn't have come on so strongly.

It disturbs him a little that he misses Spock's company a lot more than he misses the potential sex and credits from his friends. Somehow Spock has wormed his way into Jim's heart and made him feel things he's never felt before. If this is what falling in love feels like, in Jim's opinion, it sucks.

He's still mulling things over, trying to figure out what to say and do to get Spock to trust him again, when, once again, fate throws him a curve ball.

He's coming home after a late class, thinking of nothing more than a shower and a beer or three, when his attention is caught by a figure approaching from the other direction. When he gets closer he realises it's Spock, head down and moving swiftly. He is alone, and Jim is hit by the sudden sense that something is very wrong.

He speeds up and manages to catch Spock a few feet from the entrance. "Jim," Spock greets, as if nothing is amiss. "You are out late."

"So are you," Jim points out, disturbed by the blankness in Spock's eyes. He steps closer and adds, "Spock, what is it? What's wrong?"

Spock looks away, tension showing in every line of his body. "Stonn was struck by a vehicle."

Jim takes a sharp breath, feeling like he's been kicked in the stomach. "Is… is he okay?"

To his relief, Spock nods. "But he is currently in the hospital. I do not…"

"Hey," Jim interrupts him. "Breathe. It'll be okay."

Spock takes a deep breath and nods slowly. Jim lays a hand on his arm gently, relieved when Spock doesn't pull away. "Why don't we go inside?" he asks.

Spock nods again, leading him into the building, and then into his apartment. It's laid out the same as Jim and Uhura's, but that's where the similarities end. The Vulcans' apartment is extremely neat, with few personal items and minimal clutter. 'A place for everything and everything in its place', as Jim's mom would've said.

He wishes he could have seen it under better circumstances.

Spock pauses in the centre of the room and turns to him slowly, his eyes lost. "I cannot seem to…" He trails off, looking around helplessly. "We have known each other since we were _children_."

"It's okay," Jim tells him. "It'll be okay." He stares into Spock's eyes, willing him to believe it.

Spock stares back, and Jim is suddenly very aware of how close they're standing. He doesn't know which one of them moves forwards first, but they meet in the middle, arms wrapping around each other as their lips meet.

It isn't anything like Jim expected, but it's incredible all the same. Spock isn't a particularly experienced kisser, but he's a fast learner, and in Jim's estimation the kiss definitely ranks up there with some of the best he's ever had.

At least, that is, until they are interrupted by a sound from the doorway.

They spring apart, turning towards the noise, and Jim's stomach sinks as he takes in Stonn, one arm in a cast, staring at them as if he cannot believe his eyes. Behind him are the other two Vulcans, whose expressions are more of one who _can_ believe his eyes and does not like what he sees.

Jim turns to Spock to see that all expression has left his face. He waits a second for someone to speak, then blurts out, "Uh, I can explain."

"That should prove interesting," Stonn replies, raising an eyebrow.

Spock does speak, then. "Jim," he says. "You should leave."

"But," Jim begins to protest, but stops when he sees the look on Spock's face.

"_Please_, Jim," Spock says, and Jim can't bring himself to cause Spock any more pain.

Feeling vaguely like a coward, he turns and, with a last look at the Vulcans, heads out of Spock's apartment towards his own. He can only hope that whatever rules Spock has broken with their 'liaison', the punishment won't be too harsh.

x x x

He nearly goes back down there twice that night, but both times he stops himself, telling himself it will likely only make things worse for Spock. He paces the apartment, chewing his nails down to the cuticle and wishing he could go back and fix things. How could he be so stupid?

When Uhura comes home he retreats to his room and paces there, not wanting her to pick up on his distress. The last thing he wants is to have to explain the whole thing to someone else.

He finally falls asleep sometime in the small hours. When he wakes up the sun is high in the sky, and his heart pounds at the thought that Spock hasn't contacted him to tell him things are okay.

He showers quickly, dresses, and heads downstairs. Bad idea or not, he's determined to get some answers.

Stonn opens the door, giving him a distinctly unfriendly look. "What do you want?" he asks.

"I want to see Spock," Jim replies, raising his chin in defiance.

"Unfortunately that will not be possible," Stonn replies.

"And why not?"

Stonn's eyes slide off him, settling on the far wall. "Spock left for Vulcan this morning."

For a moment Jim isn't sure he's heard him correctly. "He's gone?"

"It was determined that his behaviour was not conducive with the image of Vulcan we were sent here to embody, and so he has been called home in disgrace."

Jim takes a step back, feeling ill. _He can't be gone._ "What shuttle was he on?" he asks desperately.

"Why does it matter?" Stonn asks. "He will be long gone by now."

"Yes, but-"

Stonn interrupts him. "He was a model Vulcan before he met you, you know. You changed him, contaminated him with humanity."

Jim's heart pounds in his chest, so hard that he imagines Stonn must be able to hear it. "I didn't…" He blinks back tears as everything comes flooding out in a rush. "Yeah, it started as a stupid bet, but then I got to know him and he was so kind and smart and wonderful, and I… I fell in love with him. Can't you understand that? Haven't you ever been in love?"

He realises the stupidity of the question as soon as it leaves his lips; this is a Vulcan he's talking to, after all. But to his surprise, Stonn's expression softens slightly at his words.

"He has a six-hour stopover at Lunaport," Stonn says. "If you are quick you may be able to catch him there."

Jim's heart leaps. "_Thank you_," he says fervently, before rushing upstairs to pack. He has a shuttle to catch.

* * *

Spock sits on a hard plastic seat, staring blankly at a board that states that, due to unusually strong solar flares, all shuttles are delayed until tomorrow. Part of him is grateful for the brief reprieve, but the thought of sitting here reliving his mistakes over and over does not sound appealing.

Ever since he can remember, he has followed the Vulcan code scrupulously. He has fought his whole life to be perfectly logical and unemotional, to give his peers and teachers no reason to disapprove of him. To show them that his human blood is not a disadvantage, and does not make him different to any of them.

And now, with one act, he has proven every taunt they ever threw at him.

His memories of Jim are confusing, pleasure mixed with pain. He has gone against his training, and shamed his family, and the worst of it is that there is a small part of him that does not care. He has experienced more happiness and affection with Jim these past few weeks than in his past twenty-one years of life, and despite everything he cannot bring himself to regret that.

He glances at the chronometer. Logically, Jim will have discovered Spock's absence by now. Spock wonders how he will react, whether he will be sad that Spock is gone, or angry at Spock for not telling him he was leaving. Spock wanted to, but he did not have the opportunity. The others kept him under observation from the moment they walked in on him and Jim to the moment they put him on a shuttle. They did not allow him any time alone, much less the opportunity to contact what Sylat described as his 'human whore'.

Pushing the memory aside, Spock turns to his bag to extract his PADD. He doubts he will be able to get much reading done, but he might as well make the attempt. But before he can his gaze is caught by a blond man standing around fifty feet away, seemingly scanning the crowds. Judging from his clothing, he is human, and is attracting curious glances from the overwhelmingly Vulcan travellers.

Spock's heart speeds up even as he tells himself he is being illogical. But then the man turns, and their eyes lock. Spock is out of his seat before he even realises he is moving, as the other man – _Jim_ – begins striding towards him. They meet in the middle and Spock takes Jim's hands in his, heedless of how they must look to those around them.

"Jim," he breathes.

"Spock," Jim replies, his eyes roaming all over Spock's face. "Stonn told me what happened." He glances around them nervously and adds, "Can we talk? Please?"

Spock looks round, the curious gazes of the other passengers finally registering. "Yes. There is a café a short distance from here. We can speak there."

After he has gathered his bags, they make their way to the café. Jim orders a coffee, and Spock a herbal tea. He considers adding sugar, but manages to refrain. (He's fairly certain the type they offer is artificial, in any case.)

Once they're seated with their drinks, Jim seems to clam up. He wraps his hands around his cup and chews on his lip, as if searching for words. After a few moments, Spock decides to speak first.

"I wanted to tell you," he says. "But I did not have the chance."

Jim manages to find his voice. "Yeah, the way Stonn described it things happened pretty fast." He glances up at Spock and adds, "I don't blame you."

"Why did you come here?" Spock asks, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

Jim fiddles with his cup, shrugging. "Because I needed to see you. I couldn't let you just leave without…." He trails off and takes a breath before starting again. "You were right, before. I've always seen sex as something fun and exciting, but that didn't really mean anything. But with you it's different." He takes another breath and blurts out, "I think… I love you. I'm in love with you. And that's why I came."

Something in Spock's chest aches, and he reaches out and covers Jim's hand with his own. Jim gives a small smile, eyes filled with pain. "When does your shuttle leave?" he asks.

Spock stares at him. "You did not check the boards? All shuttle flights are grounded until tomorrow due to solar flares."

"I was a little busy," Jim grumbles, before the rest of Spock's statement appears to sink in. "Wait, you mean we have the whole night?"

"Indeed," Spock says softly. His heart is beginning to pound again.

On the table, Jim turns his hand over so that he can clasp Spock's. "Then what do you say we make the most of it?"

* * *

Jim doesn't remember much about the process of checking into a hotel and getting up to the room. All he can focus on is the feeling of Spock next to him, the desperate affection they both feel. The door of their room has barely closed behind them before they are in each other's arms, kissing as if they never intend to stop.

At some point they make it to the bed, pulling off clothes and losing themselves in the sensation of skin on skin.

It isn't like any encounter Jim's ever had before. Spock is inexperienced and clearly nervous, though he tries to hide it under all his Vulcan stoicism. Jim finds himself having to be slow and careful in a way he never has before, letting Spock adjust to the intimacy of the situation.

It's completely different to his usual modus operandi, but he doesn't care one bit. Just getting to be here, touching Spock like this, is more than he could ever have hoped for. As awkward and imperfect as it is, it's still some of the best sex he's ever had.

Afterwards he wraps his arms around Spock as they lie together. The knowledge that their time together is limited weighs heavily on his mind, and he tightens his hold on Spock as if his grip can keep them being torn away from each other.

"What kind of culture punishes people for loving each other?" he asks.

"Relationships on Vulcan are not based on love," Spock replies. "They are based on logic, and ours has none."

There are a dozen arguments on Jim's tongue, but he chooses not to voice them. "Have you ever been attracted to guys before?" he asks instead.

Spock appears to consider the question, his gaze going distant. "I remember, once or twice, admiring the physique of a male classmate, but this desire to have, and touch, is new." His eyes meet Jim's. "I have never been attracted to anyone, male or female, the way I am to you."

Jim can't quite keep a silly grin from forming at that, but it soon fades. "Will your parents be angry?"

Spock sighs. "My father will not be pleased. He has always been disappointed in my attempts to act as a proper Vulcan, and my recent actions will only serve to prove to him that his reservations as to my character were true."

Jim's chest aches at the pain in Spock's voice. "What about your mom?" he asks quietly.

"She has chosen to follow the Vulcan way." Spock takes in a breath, pressing closer to Jim. "Did your parents react badly when they learned of your interest in males?"

Now it's Jim's turn to go distant. "My stepdad gave me a black eye when he found out, but I think he was just looking for an excuse. He never liked me."

"I am sorry," Spock replies, eyes filled with concern.

Jim shrugs. "Wasn't all bad. It gave my mom the push she needed to divorce his ass, so you know. Silver lining."

"How did your mother react?" Spock asks.

Jim manages a smile. "She didn't care. She sat me down after my stepdad left and told me that no matter who I was attracted to, she'd always love me." He shakes his head. "She gave me this whole lecture on STDs that nearly put me off sex for life, but she made it clear that as long as I was safe about it she didn't care what I got up to in bed. She just wanted me to be happy." He shakes his head slowly and adds, "She used to tell me about my dad, about how in love they were, and I think all she really wanted was for me to have that with someone."

"You speak of her in the past tense," Spock points out softly, and Jim nods.

"Yeah. She died a couple years back. Air-car malfunction." Even now, the memory hurts, and he takes a sharp breath, forcing back the pain of loss.

"I grieve with thee," Spock murmurs, and Jim squeezes him a little tighter in gratitude.

"That's kind of why I joined Starfleet," he says. "I was always afraid of dying in space like my dad, but it turned out Earth wasn't any safer."

There is silence for a moment, the two of them silently comforting each other. "Do you have any other family?" Spock asks eventually.

"Just my grandma," Jim replies. "My dad's mom. But she lives off planet, so I don't see her much." He doesn't bother to mention Sam. He hasn't seen his brother in years, doesn't even know if he's alive. In Jim's mind, he doesn't count as family.

"What about you?" he asks.

Spock frowns. "My extended family is quite substantial, but I do not have much contact with them. As far as I am concerned my parents are my only family." He takes a breath. "When I was young, there was my great grandfather – my father's grandfather. He was one of the few members of my father's family to be kind to me. But he died when I was twelve, and after that there was no one."

"He sounds like a good guy," Jim offers.

"Indeed," Spock replies. "He was part of the party that made first contact with Earth." One corner of his mouth turns upwards slightly. "He was quite… fascinated by humans."

Jim blinks at him. He knew Vulcans were long lived, but the idea that, for Spock, First Contact was only three generations ago still boggles his mind. "Wow. I kind of wish I could've met him."

Spock stares at him for a moment, as if considering something, then begins pulling away. "There is something I wish to show you."

Still naked, he pads over to his luggage and begins searching through one of the bags. Jim takes the opportunity to ogle his backside as he bends over, but raises his eyes quickly as Spock straightens up and comes back to the bed, holding something shiny in one hand.

He sits back down next to Jim and opens his hand, revealing a metal pendant in the shape of a circle with a triangle through it. "My great grandfather's IDIC medallion," he explains quietly. "He gave it to me just before he died."

He holds it out to Jim and Jim takes it, running his thumb over the metal. "It's beautiful," he says.

"It is one of my most treasured possessions," Spock tells him.

Jim nods, still staring at the medallion in his hand. "I understand," he says. "When I turned ten my mom gave me my dad's Starfleet pin, and I've barely let it out of my sight since."

He hands the medallion back carefully and watches as Spock places it on the nightstand. "Thank you for sharing it with me," he says.

"You are welcome," Spock replies, and his expression is so warm and open that Jim can't help but kiss him.

The kiss quickly becomes more heated, and before long they are moving again, letting their bodies say all the things that their words cannot.

"I love you," Jim gasps as pleasure overtakes them, and as he slips into sleep he swears he hears Spock say, "I love you too."


	3. Part 3

**Part 3**

Jim wakes up the next morning to an empty bed. Looking round, his heart sinks as he realises Spock's luggage is gone. He is alone.

His attention is caught by something on the nightstand and he turns to see Spock's IDIC medallion. Jim stares at it. Spock told him that medallion was one of his most treasured possessions. Surely he can't have been so careless as to leave it behind? Then he realises there's something underneath it.

It's a note, very short.

_Jim, _

_I did not wish a long goodbye, but I want to thank you for everything you have given me. Please accept this gift as a token of my affection._

_Spock._

Jim's vision blurs briefly, but he blinks the tears back firmly. He hasn't cried since his mother died, and he's damn well not going to start now.

He picks up the medallion and holds it tightly, the edges digging painfully into his hand, until the urge to cry passes. Then he slowly gets up and begins gathering his things.

x x x

Jim checks the boards when he gets back to the shuttle terminal, to find the shuttle to Vulcan is just leaving. He wraps his fingers around the medallion in his pocket and stares at the board for a long moment, feeling a sense of loss grip him. Finally he turns away and heads back to the area for shuttles to Earth. It's time he went home.

The act of buying a ticket and boarding the shuttle is done by rote, Jim's mind still stuck back in the hotel room with Spock. When the shuttle takes off he looks out of the window, fixing his gaze out at the moon until the motion of the shuttle takes it out of sight.

With nothing else to do, he pulls out his communicator. He turned it off last night so no one would disturb them, but he figures he should find out what he missed. There are a couple of messages from people in his classes wondering why he wasn't there, and four separate messages from Uhura demanding to know where he is and what the hell is going on.

He sends her a quick reply, _I'm fine. Long story, I'll explain when I get back._ Then he shoves his communicator back in his bag and goes back to trying not to think about Spock. He wishes they'd thought to exchange comm numbers or something, but it's too late now.

He reaches San Francisco around lunchtime. He's missed an entire day and a half of classes, but he can't really bring himself to care. He's way ahead in most of them anyway.

It doesn't take him long to get back to their apartment building, and he stares at it blankly for a moment before going in. He avoids looking at the door to the Vulcans' apartment as he strides past, heading quickly for the elevator.

The apartment is just how he left it, despite Uhura's last message that she was going to move her latest fling into his room if he didn't start responding to her messages.

For lack of anything better to do, Jim begins tidying up. He weighs the pros and cons of attending his last class of the day and decides to blow it off. He really isn't in the mood for discussing the finer points of Tellarite etiquette right now. Besides, he knows for a fact that the professor for that course likes him and will let him make it up later if he has to.

By the time Uhura gets back he's tidied the living room and made a decent start on the kitchen. She stops dead in the doorway at the sight of him, though Jim isn't sure whether her surprise is due to his presence or the fact that he is voluntarily cleaning the floor. (He isn't sure either of them have done so since they moved in.)

"You," she says, narrowing her eyes.

Jim offers a grin. "Hi?"

Uhura puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. "What the hell happened to you?" she demands. "You disappear with some vague note about going to Lunaport and don't answer your communicator, and then when you do respond all you'll say is that it's a long story and you'll explain later."

With a sigh, Jim puts aside the cleaner he's been using to wash the floor and leans against the counter. "Something happened with Spock," he says.

Her expression changes from annoyance to curiosity. "Tell me."

Jim takes a deep breath and begins retelling the events of the past few days; Stonn's accident, the kiss, Spock's leaving, the two of them reuniting at Lunaport. He skims over the details of his and Spock's night together, and is endlessly grateful that she doesn't mention the bet. He isn't sure he could take it right now.

"So he's gone, then?" Uhura asks softly, once he's finished.

Jim nods. "Yep." He draws the word out, popping the p. It's an affectation designed to annoy, but it just comes out flat.

She touches his arm, looking sympathetic. "You really cared about him, didn't you?"

Jim shrugs, then turns and picks up the cleaner. From her lack of comment, he guesses that's probably answer enough.

* * *

Spock spends the two-day journey to Vulcan alternately planning what he will do when he arrives, and trying and failing to avoid thinking about Jim.

Perhaps it was cowardly to leave without saying goodbye, but he did not wish a big emotional scene. It was easier and less painful to make a clean break. Still, he cannot help but wonder what Jim's reaction was when he woke to find that Spock had gone.

As his shuttle approaches the planet he finds it more and more difficult to suppress his anxiety. His father has always come down hard on any display of illogic from Spock, and his recent actions have achieved a new record in that area. To be caught exchanging intimacy not only with a human but a _male_ is so far beyond any previous misdemeanours that Spock cannot imagine his father's reaction, but there is no doubt that it will be an extremely negative one.

Meditation helps to calm him, but only up to a point, and when the shuttle docks at ShiKahr he gathers his bags with a feeling of near dread.

His unease is soon proven correct. His father is waiting for him, his face an expressionless mask. Spock has only seen his father so closed off a handful of times, and it has never boded well for him.

Forcing down the anxiety that grips him, Spock walks over to his father and offers the ta'al. "Father."

"Spock," his father replies shortly. "Come." He does not return the ta'al, instead turning and striding towards the exit, leaving Spock to follow.

The flight back to the house is made in silence, Sarek seemingly pretending that Spock does not exist. Spock considers breaking the silence, but he does not know what to say. He senses that any attempt to explain himself would be in vain, and so in the end he remains silent and waits for his father to make the first move.

It is not until the air-car touches down on the landing pad and the engine is turned off that Sarek speaks. "Your actions have brought shame on not only yourself, but your clan. Do you have any explanation for your illogical behaviour?"

Spock wants to tell him that his actions weren't shameful, that the time he spent with Jim was the only time he felt accepted, and that if he had the chance he would do it all over again. But the words stick in his throat. His father will never understand, and any explanation Spock attempts to give will be viewed as digging himself deeper.

"That is what I expected," Sarek says, into the silence. "I considered punishing you, as I did when you were a child, but it is your mother's opinion that the coming days will be punishment enough. T'Pring's parents have already contacted me to discuss breaking your betrothal, and I cannot imagine other reactions will be any more positive."

Spock does not care about the betrothal, but the disappointment in his father's tone still stings. The instant he is dismissed he gathers his bags and, without a second look, makes his way up to his room.

Once there he locks the door and slowly goes about the process of unpacking. He is almost finished when he comes across the card from Christopher Pike. He stares at it for a long moment, then slides it back into the bag, out of sight.

He is arranging the last of things on his dresser when there is a knock on the door. Forcing down his nerves, Spock crosses the room and opens the door.

His mother stands there, fingers fiddling absently with a seam of her robe. She stops when he opens the door and instead smoothes her hands down the fabric. "Spock," she greets. "I hope you are well?"

She does not offer him a welcome home, nor does she attempt to hug him as she usually does. Even though such actions often make him uncomfortable, Spock finds himself missing them. His mother's current reticence feels wrong, and once again he wonders that a simple kiss could ruin everything.

"I am physically fit," he replies, deliberately leaving out any references to his emotional health. Vulcans do not lie, after all.

She offers a faint smile. "Good. That's good." She glances around, then adds, "I just wanted to tell you that dinner will be ready in about half an hour, okay?"

"I will be there," Spock replies. Much as he might wish to skip it.

His mother nods. "Well, I should go. I'm… I'm glad you're okay." With that she turns to leave.

Spock wants to call after her, to ask her why she's acting this way, but once more the words stick in his throat. He watches her disappear down the stairs before going back into his room and dropping down onto his meditation mat. If ever he needed the peace of meditation, it is now.

x x x

As promised, T'Pring's parents arrive the next day to break the betrothal. T'Pring is with them.

His mother opts not to sit in on the meeting, instead disappearing off to some other part of the house as soon as they arrive. The rest of them retire to the drawing room, and Spock finds himself studying T'Pring as they sit down. She is attractive, he supposes, but there is a coldness about her that is the complete opposite of Jim's warmth and enthusiasm. She is, in every respect, a proper Vulcan woman, and Spock no longer wants that. If, indeed, he ever did.

He mostly avoids listening to the recitation of his misdeeds, instead focusing on a particular patch of carpet and mentally reciting everything he learned during his all too brief time on Earth. He just wants this meeting to be over with so he can go back to being ignored.

A slight change in tone tells him a question has been asked of him, and he mentally rewinds the conversation to find that T'Pring's father has just asked what he intended to prove with his actions.

"Nothing," he answers simply. "My actions were not intended as a proof, or a betrayal, or anything else. They simply were." The feeling of being unable to speak that has dogged him since he arrived on Vulcan has suddenly lifted, and everything he has longed to say comes spilling out. "Furthermore, it was not wrong, or 'illogical', or whatever else you are undoubtedly thinking. It was wonderful and right and perfect, and I will not let you or anyone else say otherwise."

He lapses into silence, fingernails digging into his palm as he looks around at the others. T'Pring's parents look shocked at his outburst, while his father looks quietly furious. T'Pring herself looks merely curious, as if he's a puzzle she has yet to figure out. It is probably the most affectionate look she has ever given him.

"I believe the ceremony should be performed as soon as possible," T'Pring's mother says, breaking the silence.

"Indeed," Sarek mutters. He stands and adds, " I shall make the arrangements and contact you with the details."

T'Pring and her parents stand likewise, and bow their heads in acquiescence. "That is acceptable," T'Pring's mother says.

Sarek gestures to the doorway. "Let me show you out." Without even looking at Spock, he adds, "Spock, you are dismissed."

T'Pring catches his eye as she and her parents are shown out, and there's something in her expression Spock can't quite identify. If forced, he would say it's almost… sympathetic, but then she is gone and he writes it off as wishful thinking. He will find no sympathy here.

x x x

The ceremony takes place the next day. It is over quickly, a simple mindmeld to remove the betrothal link, and he is free. Alone.

He keeps his head high, meeting the disapproving gazes around him with impassiveness, but inside he is aching. He has always been an outcast, but not like this. Even his own mother will not meet his eyes, and as they make their way home from the annulment ceremony he finds himself missing Jim more than ever.

* * *

Back on Earth, Jim is dealing with the separation in his own way. His first instinct is to throw himself into other things; work, hobbies, extra-credit projects, anything that will keep his mind busy enough to avoid thinking about the hole Spock's absence has left.

Unfortunately, this plan comes with side effects.

"Dammit, Jim," McCoy says, crossing his arms as Jim blinks at him from a bed in the medical centre. "You can't keep running yourself ragged like this. When's the last time you ate? Or slept?" Jim opens his mouth, only to close it again when McCoy glares at him and adds, "For more than a couple of hours at a time."

"I'm fine," Jim protests, although he realises his present location does not exactly add credence to his claim.

Sure enough, McCoy just snorts. "Right. You're totally fine. That's why you collapsed in the middle of your self-defence class and ended up here." His expression softens, and he adds, "Look, Jim. I know you miss him, but you need to start taking better care of yourself."

Jim sets his jaw and looks away. "Can I go now?"

McCoy sighs, holding out a PADD. "Just sign this, and you're free to leave. But I want you to eat a full meal and get at least eight hours of sleep tonight."

Jim obediently scrawls a signature, then gathers his things and hurries off before McCoy can change his mind.

He's already missed half of his Interplanetary Ethics class thanks to his little fainting spell, so he's at something of a loose end. He considers going to the library and doing some more research on the Kobayashi Maru test, but McCoy's words stick in his mind and he finds himself making his way towards the mess hall instead.

He orders a chicken sandwich and water, deciding to skip the coffee for once. He has a suspicion that his recent trip to the medical centre can be blamed at least in part on the vast amounts of caffeine he's been ingesting recently. McCoy's right, he needs to get more sleep, but when he sleeps he dreams of Spock, and even the good dreams make his chest ache.

The only bright spot he can see is that the Vulcans disappeared the day he got back. Apparently the sudden 'betrayal' of one quarter of their group unsettled them enough to move out. Jim doesn't know if they went somewhere else in San Francisco, or cut their losses and went back to Vulcan, but he doesn't really care. He's just grateful to be spared at least _one_ reminder of his loss.

When his food comes, he takes his tray and sits down in a far corner to eat. It's actually not bad, and he's halfway through his sandwich when he's interrupted by someone sliding into the seat opposite.

He looks up to see a guy from his Warp Field Mechanics class studying him with a familiar look in his eyes. Jim lets a smile spread across his face, automatically falling into old habits.

"I'm looking for some… tutoring," the guy – Matthew? Michael? – says, his gaze straying blatantly down Jim's body. "You interested?"

Jim hesitates, his mind going straight to Spock, but then he pushes the thought away firmly. Spock is gone, and he's not coming back, and it's time he accepted that.

He studies the guy, letting his eyes linger on the way his chest fills out his uniform, and nods. He's attractive enough – dark hair, full lips, scattering of freckles – and Jim has never been what one would call picky. "I think that could be arranged," he says in a low voice, reaching out to lay a hand on the guy's arm. "I'm actually free right now, if that's good for you?"

Ten minutes later, they're in the guy's dorm room, hands and mouths roaming as they approach the bed. Jim feels something inside him flare to life as they move together, all the pain and doubt of the past days washing away as if it never existed. He surrenders himself to the feeling and for the first time in days does not think of Spock.

The freedom is short lived, however. He's still trying to get his breath back from the orgasm when his companion rolls out of bed and begins getting dressed. "That was great," he says, "but I have a class in fifteen minutes, so, you know."

Jim sits up, feeling oddly let down. "That's it?" he asks. "You don't want to like, talk or anything?"

The guy – Jim still doesn't know his name – gives him a look like he's said something totally ridiculous. "Don't make it weird, dude," he says.

Jim nods, then silently pulls on his clothes and leaves, his own words to Spock ringing in his mind. _It's just sex, okay? Two people making each other feel good. It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to._

_And if I do want it to_? he asks silently. _What then?_

x x x

By the time he gets home that night, he's come up with a plan. It's becoming clear that he can't deal with being cut off from Spock like this, so he'll have to find some way to bring them back together.

It's complicated, of course, by the fact that he doesn't know Spock's comm number, or his address, or really anything except that he's called Spock and lives on Vulcan. And since, according to the data banks, that describes over one hundred thousand people, he's going to have to find some way of narrowing it down.

For the first time he wishes Stonn and the others hadn't moved out. They would have known how to contact Spock, or at the very least have access to much more information about him than Jim has.

As it happens, though, he has more information than he thinks. That night he's examining the medallion Spock left him when he realises there's something carved on the back. It's a sort of pattern of curved lines, and Jim stares at it, trying to remember where he's seen anything like it before. Then it dawns on him, and he bolts out of his room in search of Uhura.

She's watching a holovid in the living room, but pauses it when he comes rushing in. "What's up?" she asks, a look of concern crossing her face.

"You read Vulcan, right?" Jim asks, feeling the edges of the medallion digging into his hand.

"Some," Uhura replies doubtfully. "I'm better at Romulan."

Jim holds out the medallion. "Can you tell me what this says?"

Uhura takes it, running her fingers over the front. "Where did you get this?" she asks. "It looks old. And valuable."

"Spock gave it to me," Jim says, then grimaces as her expression begins to warp into pity. "Can you read it or not?"

Uhura's eyes narrow, but he knows she can't resist a challenge. Looking down, she turns the medallion over and stares at the writing with a frown. "It looks like a name," she says, then lets out a string of syllables that Jim has no chance of remembering, much less reproducing himself.

Uhura takes in his blank look and sighs. "I can try and transliterate it for you," she says. "Why are you so interested anyway?"

Jim crosses his arms, trying not to fidget. "Spock said the medallion belonged to his great-grandfather," he admits. "I thought if I could find out what it said I might be able to use it to find him."

Uhura nods slowly. "I'll see what I can do," she promises.

She's getting that look of pity again, and Jim scowls. He hates being pitied. Even being insulted or laughed at would be better. But she's doing him a favour, so he pushes down his annoyance. "Thanks," he says. He nods at the medallion and adds, "You can keep that for now. Until you find something out."

With that he retreats back to his room before Uhura can ask him to join her. He learned a long time ago never to watch a film with Uhura, unless he wants to spend the whole time listening to a running commentary of every single error and plot hole. She isn't one to be easily satisfied by media.

Back in his room, he stares at his PADD and hopes Uhura's research will turn up something. However bad this separation is for him, he knows it must be much worse for Spock. He looks out the window, fastening his gaze on the stars. "I wish you were here," he whispers. "But more than that I just wish I knew you were okay."

With a sigh, he turns away from the window and goes back to work.

* * *

The days on Vulcan pass slowly. Spock spends most of his time in his room, or out in the garden, away from everyone else. His father seems to be avoiding him, which Spock is fine with. It isn't as if his father has ever really spent much time with him, after all, even when Spock was young. Spock is used to being a disappointment, an inconvenience to be tolerated, and it ceased to bother him a long time ago.

It is his mother's reaction that hurts. She used to be warm and affectionate, sometimes uncomfortably so. But now she avoids touching him, and her smile seems strained, their relationship awkward in a way it has never been.

They all avoid the subject of Jim, and Spock's disgrace. Spock is reminded of a phrase he learned back on Earth for a topic that everyone avoids discussing; the 'elephant in the room'. It is a strange analogy, but an apt one. Spock feels sometimes as if the elephant in question is sitting on his chest, making it difficult to breathe and constantly threatening to crush him under its weight.

Finally, after seeing the strain in his mother's eyes one too many times, something inside Spock snaps. "Are you angry with me?" he asks quietly, watching her stir the sauce for their dinner.

She sighs. "No, I'm not angry. I just don't understand." She turns to him, looking at him directly for the first time in what feels like days. "When you were younger, we gave you a choice. You chose to follow the Vulcan way. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I supported you, and you excelled beyond anyone's expectations. You were top of your class, the kind of son every mother would want, and I was so proud. And then I learn that you've decided to throw it all away for some human boy you knew for less than a month. And I just… can't understand why."

"He accepted me," Spock replies, barely audible. "He… made me happy."

His mother sighs, pausing in her stirring long enough to reach out and smooth back his hair. "Oh, Spock," she says. "You know, I've always admired your ability to see the good in people. But I think sometimes it keeps you from seeing how things really are."

Spock digs his fingernails into his palm. "I am not a child," he replies. "I know how things are. Jim loves me, and-"

She cuts him off before he can finish. "No, he doesn't," she says, and there's a hint of something he can't identify in her eyes. Spock opens his mouth to argue, but she is faster. "He doesn't love you. He told Stonn that he seduced you on a _bet_." Her expression softens as she adds, "I'm sorry, Spock, but it's true. You were nothing but a game to him."

Spock stares at her blankly, not wanting to believe. Jim wouldn't do that. He told Spock, he said that he loved him, that he wanted to be with him. It couldn't just be for a bet. But he knows his mother, and he can tell she isn't lying.

She turns back to the sauce. "You'd better go wash up. Dinner's almost ready."

Numbly, Spock turns and makes his way out of the room, the ache in his chest growing and threatening to swallow him whole.

* * *

True to her word, Uhura comes up with a transliteration of the name, along with an approximate pronunciation. With that information Jim is able to narrow his list down to around a dozen possibilities, and begins making calls.

The first six calls result in five wrong numbers and one non-answer. But on the seventh, Jim's luck changes.

The call is answered by a dark-haired woman who stares at him impassively. But after five of these conversations, Jim is past being wrong-footed by such a reaction. "I'm looking for Spock," he says, managing not to make it sound like a question.

"What do you want with him?" the woman asks sharply, and Jim has to fight not to grin. _Jackpot!_

"I'm… a friend," he says. "From Earth. Can I speak to him?"

The woman's eyes narrow. "You're _him_, aren't you? Well, Spock doesn't want to speak to you, so you can just leave us alone." She leans forward and the screen goes dark.

Jim stares at the blank screen for a moment, replaying what he saw just before the connection cut out. The woman's cheeks were flushed with anger – flushed _red_.

He pokes his head out into the living room. "I found him."

Uhura's eyes widen. "Really? What did he say?"

Jim shrugs. "I didn't get to speak to him. His mom hung up on me."

"Then how do you know it was the right number?" Uhura asks, frowning.

Jim grins. "Because," he says. "She was human."

He feels like a weight has been lifted. Sure, Spock's mom hung up on him, but he has the right number now. All he has to do is keep trying.

Everything's going to be fine.

* * *

Spock stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Effortlessly he pinpoints the differences that have always set him apart; the colour of his eyes, the slight curve to his eyebrows, the sharp points of his canine teeth. Tiny things, but together they indicate to anyone looking at him that he is not _truly_ Vulcan. He is a half-breed, an experiment. A freak.

His life has never been easy. For as long as he can remember it has been drilled into him that he is different, _inferior_, and will have to work twice as hard to prove himself. And he has done so. He has excelled at his schooling, passed his kahs-wan first time, and worked to make certain that his logic and emotional control are faultless. He has not only met but exceeded every challenge that has been given to him. And now it seems as though all that effort was for naught.

Earlier today, he met with several senior members of the Science Academy, discussing his place there. According to the professors they are prepared to overlook his "illogical behaviour", but he is aware that he has lost a great deal of respect; the reputation he has worked so hard to build ruined by one simple act of emotion.

As always, he thinks of Jim, but the memories are tainted by his mother's words. _You were nothing but a game to him._

Spock grips the edge of the sink, feeling as though his life is falling apart. His acquaintances pretend not to know him, his mother looks at him with pity, his father does not look at him at all. And Jim, the one person Spock thought he could count on, the only person who has ever truly accepted him, turned out to be just using him to win a bet with his friends.

With a sudden surge of despair, Spock slams his hand against the mirror, and it falls off the wall and shatters in the sink.

He stares at the mess tiredly, then begins clearing it up. But as he collects up the pieces of the mirror, he feels a sharp pain in his right index finger and realises that he has cut himself on one of the shards.

Spock stares at the blood dripping from his finger, watching as it spatters against the sink. For the first time in days he feels something other than loss and despair, and it is an almost addictive feeling. And then the thought comes to him, whispering softly in the back of his mind, that perhaps there is a way out after all.

As if in a trance, he picks up one of the larger shards from the mirror and presses it to his wrist.

It only hurts for a moment.

* * *

Jim calls several times during the next few days, but his calls are never picked up. He suspects Spock's parents are screening his number, and Spock himself is unable or unwilling to answer. But he can't give up, not when he's this close to finally being able to talk to Spock again, so he keeps trying.

Finally his persistence pays off – sort of. The call is answered, but not by Spock. The image on the screen is the same woman who hung up on him the first time he called, and she seems even more angry and upset than she was before.

"Why can't you just leave us in peace?" she demands.

Jim takes a breath, not wanting to antagonise her further. (Small hope, given he's always been the kind of person who can cause insult by saying hello, but he has to at least try.) "Look," he says, "I know you don't like me, but I care about your son a lot and I just want to talk to him and make sure he's okay."

She gives a bitter laugh. "You claim to care about my son?" She glares at him, and Jim can see that her eyes are red-rimmed. "_My son_ took a piece of glass to his wrists because of you, because you betrayed him. I have lost him forever and it is _all your fault_."

Jim's entire body goes numb at the words. _No, no, please, it can't be true._ But looking at her face, he can tell it is. He fumbles for words. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Just leave us alone," she spits. "I hope you pay for what you've done."

With that, the screen goes black and Jim is left staring at it blankly, trying to process what has just happened. He feels like he might be sick, and when he puts out a hand to grip the desk, he realises it's shaking. Slowly, he stands and makes his way out into the living room, where Uhura is working on a paper, her feet up on the coffee table.

"Did you get through?" she asks without glancing up from her work. When he doesn't answer she looks up, her expression changing instantly from vague interest to concern. A small part of Jim's mind wonders how bad he must look to put that look on her face, but the rest of him is just numb. "What?" she asks. "What's wrong?"

Jim tries to speak, but the words stick in his throat. He tries again and manages to get out, "Spock…." He swallows and forces out the rest. "Spock's dead. He killed himself."

"Oh my God." Uhura is off the couch in an instant, rushing to his side. Her arms wrap around him, holding him, and Jim clutches at her, desperate for even the illusion of comfort.

"I loved him," he mumbles into her shoulder.

"I know," she assures him, holding him all the tighter. "I know."

They stay like that, locked together, for a very long time.


	4. Part 4

**Part 4**

If Jim thought he was hurting when Spock was just on another planet, it's nothing compared to how much it hurts to know that Spock is dead. He will never see Spock again. Never hear his voice, or touch his skin, or feel his warmth. And worst of all, it's at least partly his fault.

He spends hours upon hours lying on his bed, tormenting himself with ideas of what he could have done differently. If he'd got through to Spock's parents sooner, if he'd insisted they exchange numbers, if he'd gone with Spock to offer moral support, maybe he could have kept him from feeling like he had nothing to live for.

Spock's mother's words keep going round and round in his head. _I have lost him forever and it is all your fault._ He hasn't told Uhura that part of the story, and he isn't planning to. He's pretty sure she'd take his side, but he doesn't want her to. Spock's mother's right – if he hadn't set out to seduce Spock, none of this would have happened. It makes Jim ache to know that the person he loved most would have been much better off if they'd never even met.

He leaves Spock's medallion lying on his desk, unable to touch it, barely willing to look at it. Every time he does he remembers lying in a hotel room at Lunaport, listening to the reverence in Spock's voice as he described how it was his most treasured possession.

In the end he tracks down Spock's parents' address and sends the medallion back to them, along with a note expressing his condolences. He doesn't know if Spock would have wanted them to have it, but it feels right. And, if he's honest, not having it there as a constant reminder of his loss is almost a relief. He can remember Spock just as well without it.

He feels like there's a hole in his chest, like someone's ripped him open and pulled out his heart, but he tries to work past it, to keep busy. The last thing he wants is to fall back into the pit of despair he experienced after his mother died. He focuses what little energy he can scrape up on his studies; Starfleet is the only thing he has left, and he doesn't know what he'd do if he lost that too.

In his darkest moments he consoles himself with the thought that when he graduates he'll be out there in the black, away from Earth, and all this will fade away. It doesn't really help, but it gives him something to work for. On a whim, he joins the chess club, purely because it feels like something Spock would do. He kind of sucks at it, but he keeps going back all the same.

His friends rally round him, offering help or support, and Jim is grateful, even though part of him doesn't feel he deserves it. No one mentions the bet, but he can't stop thinking about it anyway – after all, if he hadn't made the bet he wouldn't have gotten to know Spock, and none of this would have happened.

The hole in his chest doesn't heal, but slowly he becomes inured to the pain, able to ignore it most of the time until something reminds him of Spock, and it comes back full force. There's a Vulcan in his programming class and on bad days it takes all his energy just to be in the same room.

All things considered, though, he thinks he's handling it pretty well. That is, until Captain Pike calls him into his office for a chat.

The last time Jim was in Pike's office was after he put hair remover in the shampoo of a cadet who was tormenting him. Jim doesn't really regret it – Finnegan deserved it, the bastard, especially since Jim wasn't the only person he screwed over – but he does regret the look of disappointment Pike gave him. He's still grateful to Captain Pike for taking him under his wing after his mother died, for keeping him from self-destructing by giving him something to work for. Jim wouldn't be where he is today if it weren't for Pike, and he admits he wants the other man to be proud of him.

Still, he's pretty sure he hasn't done anything this time to get into trouble. Even if he wanted to, he hasn't had the time or the energy. He wracks his brain as he approaches Pike's office, wondering what reason his mentor could have for summoning him.

The door is open when he arrives, and Jim peeks in to see Pike sitting at his desk studying a PADD. Hesitantly, Jim knocks on the doorway and Pike looks up, giving him a smile. Jim relaxes fractionally, figuring that means he's not in trouble.

"Jim," Pike greets. "Come in and sit down." As Jim moves to do so, he hears Pike order, "Computer, close door," followed by the sound of the door sliding shut behind him.

Jim takes a seat on the other side of Pike's desk, forcing himself not to fidget. "You asked to see me?"

"Yes," Pike agrees. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

Jim shrugs, not looking at him. "Why wouldn't it be?" The last thing he wants is to have to explain the whole Spock situation. A lump starts forming in his throat just at the thought.

"You tell me," Pike replies. "You've seemed kind of quiet these last few weeks. Almost withdrawn. I've talked to a few of your professors, and they've noticed it too."

Jim can't think of anything to say, so he stays silent.

"You can talk to me, Jim," Pike says gently. "If there's something bothering you I'd like to know." He pauses briefly, then adds, "Is someone hurting you?"

Jim's gaze snaps up from where he's examining his knees. "What? No." But Pike's concerned expression breaks down his resistance. "A… friend of mine died recently. And I never even got to say goodbye."

"Ah," Pike says, his tone full of sympathy. "As it happens, I recently suffered a similar loss, so I know how hard it can be. I take it this was a sudden event?"

Jim nods.

"And right now you're probably asking yourself what you could have done differently. If there's some way you could have kept it from happening."

It isn't a question, and Jim stares at him. Maybe Pike does understand, just a little, though Jim wonders if he would be so sympathetic if he knew the whole story.

"Well, there isn't," Pike continues firmly. "Trust me, blaming yourself doesn't help anyone. The best thing you can do is live as they would want you to."

Jim nods again, slowly, and Pike taps at his PADD. "I'll talk to your professors and see if we can come to some sort of understanding. The Academy does offer grief counselling, but it's entirely up to you whether that's something you're interested in."

Jim has no intention of going to counselling, but he decides not to mention that. "I'll think about it," he says instead. "Is that all?"

Pike looks at him for a long moment, then nods. "You can go."

Jim practically leaps up, wanting to be anywhere but here. He's about to head for the door when Pike speaks again. "Jim?"

Jim turns back warily.

"Just so you know, I'm here, if you ever want someone to talk to. You're not alone."

Despite everything, the words create a warm feeling in Jim's chest. "I know," he says. "Thank you. Sir."

He manages a brief smile before turning and hurrying out. It isn't that he's not grateful to Pike, but the whole situation is a bit too much to handle right now.

Pike must keep his promise about speaking to Jim's professors, as several of them meet with him privately over the next few days to see if there's anything they can do to make things easier for him. Jim wishes they wouldn't – mostly he just wants to be left in peace and keep up the illusion that everything's fine – but he's a little gratified by the fact that most of them clearly had no idea anything was wrong. He isn't a particularly subtle person, but he can keep things hidden when he wants to.

Uhura is a rock throughout the whole situation. She keeps him busy, lets him talk whenever he needs to – even once in the middle of the night, when he tried to make cookies and woke her up by setting off the smoke alarm. He tries not to burden her with his problems, but he appreciates her presence all the same.

Which is why the news she comes out with as they approach the end of the semester comes as such a shock.

In retrospect, he should have suspected something was wrong when she dragged him out into the living room for a talk, but at the time he just takes it for one of her attempts at bonding. Instead she twists her hands together and blurts out, "I've been accepted for a placement on the _Hood_."

"Okay…" Jim replies, unsure how to react.

She bites her lip. "I applied for it months ago, before all this happened. I never expected I'd be chosen, but-"

Jim cuts her off. "You should have. You're amazing, and you deserve it." He takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the ache in his chest. "How long will you be gone?"

"Three months?" She meets his eyes, reaching out to touch his arm. "I haven't accepted it yet. I told them I needed to think about it."

"What's there to think about?" Jim asks. "It's an incredible opportunity. You'd be crazy to say no."

"And what about you?" Uhura asks softly.

"Me?" Jim shrugs. "I'll be fine. I can stay with Bones for a while." He lays a hand over hers and squeezes gently. "Really," he says. "Don't worry about me. You should go follow your dreams." He manages a smile, proud that it's only a little wobbly.

Uhura studies him for a moment, then without warning lunges forward and wraps her arms around him. "I'll write you every day," she says into his shoulder. "And you'd better write back, or there'll be trouble."

"I will," Jim replies, hugging her back. "I promise."

They stay like that for a moment longer before she pulls away, looking a little embarrassed at her show of emotion. "You know," she says, "if someone told me the moment we met that one day I'd regret a great opportunity because it meant leaving you, I'd never have believed it."

"Me either," Jim jokes, and is grateful when she laughs.

"You're a good person, Jim Kirk," she says, sobering. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Jim isn't sure he believes her, but he nods anyway.

Uhura stands up. "I'd better go tell them I'm accepting the post," she says. "We leave in two weeks."

With that she heads off to her bedroom, leaving Jim alone with his thoughts.

x x x

The night that Uhura leaves, Jim goes up to the roof. The last time he was up there was just after Spock left, the time before that was _with_ Spock, and it makes his chest ache a little in remembrance. It's one reason he's been avoiding the place lately, but right now he needs the tranquillity of the stars more than he needs to avoid the reminders of Spock.

He sits down on the edge of the roof and gazes up at the stars. Almost without meaning to, he picks out Eridani, Vulcan's sun, and remembers following Spock's gaze as he pointed it out. A wave of loss and loneliness hits him like a blow, and he clenches his fists, eyes fixed on that far away star. "God, Spock," he mumbles. "I wish you were here. I miss you so much. I wish I could've been there to help you, to stop you feeling so alone. I wish your culture wasn't so rigid, that your parents had accepted you for who you were. I wish a lot of things, but most of all I wish I could tell you how sorry I am, and how much I wish I could make things right."

Tears prick at his eyes and he blinks them back. "I still love you," he tells the star, not caring how ridiculous it is to say all this as if there's any chance Spock could hear it. "I think I always will. And I'm sorry I didn't try harder to make sure you knew that."

Finally running out of words, he falls silent. He stares up at Eridani for a few seconds more, then turns away. The hole in his chest is still there, the ache of loss just as sharp as it always is, but saying it all out loud like that has helped, just a little.

He takes a deep breath, standing up straight, before making his way back down to the apartment to finish packing.

* * *

Sixteen light years away, Spock comes awake with a gasp. He has dreamed of Jim many times since he was brought here, but this dream felt different. It was as though he was actually there, standing beside Jim as he looked at the stars and spoke of his regret that Spock was not with him.

Wary of alerting the acolytes, Spock slips out of bed and kneels on the bare floor to meditate. Most Vulcans use a bench or mat of some kind, but students at Gol are forbidden such luxuries.

The sleeves of his robe fall down as he raises his hands, revealing the white lines across his wrists. The healers were able to save his life, but left the scars as a reminder of his failure and lack of logic. Spock has grown used to seeing them by now, and pays them no mind.

He sinks into his meditative trance, searching for any indication that the dream might not have been just a dream. And, to his amazement, he finds it.

In the bonding centre of his mind is a tiny thread, stretching out into infinity, similar to the one he once shared with T'Pring. Spock's heart speeds up as he follows the thread and finds that, as he suspected, it joins his mind to Jim's.

He pulls out of his mind and just sits there for a moment, trying to process the new information. The link must have formed during their sexual activity at Lunaport, the night before he left. But more importantly, it means that his mother was wrong. Jim does love him, and wants only for Spock to be with him.

Spock looks around, taking in the blank walls and bare mattress. He does not want to be here. He has never wanted to be here. He was brought here by the healers after his failed attempt to end his life, and at the time he was too lost to bother arguing. It was his father's idea, of course – one last misguided attempt to change him, _fix_ him. Whether he likes it or not.

It should not be difficult to break out, Spock thinks, he has merely never had a reason to attempt it before. Now he does.

He rises and walks to the window, picking out Earth's sun and fixing his eyes on it. "I am coming, Jim," he whispers. "Wait for me."

Then, carefully, quietly, he steps away and begins to pack.

x x x

He leaves the next night, when everyone is sleeping. Most of the people at Gol are there by choice, so there is little security. He has to nerve pinch one guard near the entrance, and then he is free. He glances back once as he reaches the gates, then swings his bag over his shoulder and makes his way out into the desert.

He reaches the outskirts of ShiKahr just as the sun is rising, and heads straight for the shuttle port. There is a spare credit chip sown into the lining of his bag, with just enough on it to purchase a one way ticket to Lunaport. He orders the ticket from a machine, then checks the announcement boards to find out where he needs to go next. As it happens, the next shuttle to Lunaport leaves in just under four hours, from Gate Five.

Spock makes a note of the information, then decides to get something to eat before he makes his way over to the gate. The food at Gol is intended to supply all needed nutrients, but the taste and texture leave much to be desired.

He purchases fruit and tea from a nearby store, and sits down to eat them. He wonders if his parents are aware that he is no longer at the monastery, and if they will even care. His mother, perhaps, but he cannot imagine his father reacting with anything other than disappointment that Spock has once more brought shame on the family.

There was a time when Spock would have been pained by such a thought, but he stopped caring what his father thought of him when he was banished to Gol. It is an oddly freeing feeling.

Spock's thoughts turn to the more pleasant ones of seeing Jim again, and with a shock he realises the emotion he is feeling is happiness. It has been so long since he felt anything but tiredness and despair that he almost doesn't recognise it. _Soon_, he tells himself, stomach fluttering with anticipation. _Soon._

x x x

The journey to Lunaport seems to take longer than it did previously. Spock knows that that is an illogical thought, that each voyage is designed to take the same amount of time, but it seems that way all the same.

He spends most of the time in meditation, attempting to calm himself at the prospect of finally being reunited with Jim. He wishes they hadn't wasted so much time being miserable alone when they could have been happy together. Still, at least they will be together soon.

When they arrive at Lunaport, he stares out the window at the green and blue ball of planet Earth and feels the same fluttering in his stomach. A one-hour stopover and a shuttle ride later, he steps out of the shuttle port in San Francisco and takes a deep breath of the cool Earth air. Settling his bag more firmly on his shoulder, he hails a taxi and gives the address of Jim's apartment block.

He stares out of the window as they travel, wondering how Jim will react to Spock showing up like this. Ideally, he would have liked to call first, but he does not have Jim's number. At least he will not have to worry about seeing Stonn and the others; they will have returned to Vulcan by now.

The taxi drops him off outside the building, and Spock hesitates for a moment before straightening and determinedly making his way inside and up to the fourth floor.

From the outside, Jim's apartment looks just the same. Spock takes a deep breath, then raises his hand and signals for entry.

There is no response. Spock waits for precisely one minute, then signals again. Still no one answers.

Spock frowns. It appears Jim and his roommate are not home. He checks the time and finds it is still early. They are likely still in class.

For lack of anything better to do, he settles down beside the door, intending to wait until Jim returns.

Forty-two minutes later, he is keeping himself busy by mentally reciting each of Surak's laws in High Vulcan, then translating to Common Vulcan and Standard, when his attention is distracted by a woman stepping out of an apartment a few doors down.

She stops when she catches sight of him, and stares. Spock hastily gets to his feet, one hand curling protectively around his bag.

"You here for a reason?" she asks, her gaze flicking from him to the door to the bag and back.

Spock nods. "Yes." He gestures vaguely at the door next to him. "I am waiting for my… friend. Jim Kirk?"

The woman gives him a dubious look. "You're gonna be waiting a long time. He moved out."

Spock's stomach drops. "When?" he manages.

"Couple of days ago."

So close. Spock takes a breath, firmly pushing down the frustration. "What about his roommate?" he asks.

"She's gone too."

"Do you know where?"

The woman shrugs. "Sorry. We didn't really talk much, you know?"

"It is all right," Spock replies. It is a lie; it is _not_ all right, not even close, but it would be illogical to place the blame for his situation on someone who had no hand in it. "Thank you for your help."

Feeling oddly numb, he picks up his bag and begins making his way out of the building, mind whirling as he tries to think what to do now. All his plans centred on finding Jim, and he assumed things after that would fall into place, and it is only now dawning on him how poorly thought through his actions were. Here he is, on Earth, with nowhere to go and no Jim.

A memory pokes through the fog of despair, and he stops in his tracks, rummaging through his bag until he uncovers a small card. _If you ever change your mind, look me up._

Spock stares at the card, considering. He is still not entirely certain about joining Starfleet, but it is at least a place to start. Perhaps Captain Pike will be able to offer some advice as what to do next.

x x x

It does not take him long to reach the Academy, and he makes his way uncertainly to Pike's office. He does not know if this is a good idea – he barely knows the man, after all – but he has yet to think of a better one.

The door is open as he approaches, and he can see Captain Pike inside, working at his computer. Spock steels himself, then steps forward and knocks tentatively on the door.

Pike looks up and Spock swallows. "I don't know if you remember me-" he begins, but Pike interrupts him.

"No, I do," he says. "You're the boy who comforted me outside the hospital. Come in, sit down!"

Spock does so. Pike studies him for a moment, frowning. "I'm afraid I can't quite remember your name," he says, sounding apologetic.

"Spock," Spock tells him, and Pike's face clears.

"That's right," he says. "So what brings you here, then? I thought you'd have gone back to Vulcan by now."

"I did," Spock replies. "I am not… comfortable living there any longer."

"Why?" Pike asks.

Spock takes a breath, gaze dropping to his hands. "I am homosexual." There is a certain relief in finally saying it out loud.

"Ah." Pike pauses, as if considering. "And is that not… accepted on Vulcan?"

Spock shakes his head. "Two men cannot procreate, therefore such a relationship would be illogical." The words are routine by now, but he still can't quite make himself believe them. He laces his fingers together, finally glancing up. "I understand things are viewed differently among humans?"

Pike nods. "There are still bigots out there, but most humans don't care as long as everyone's consenting. We've learned there are more important things." He gives Spock a comforting smile. "I'm not going to pretend Earth is some kind of utopia, or that you'll never face problems here, but who you sleep with isn't likely to be one of them."

The idea is somewhat intoxicating. "I believe I would like to join the Academy," Spock says. He may not have been sure when he arrived here, but the idea has grown on him. To be out among the stars, exploring, with people who will not judge him… there is a definite appeal to the idea.

Pike's smile grows. "You're sure?" At Spock's nod, he continues, "Well, you're in luck. The entrance exam for prospective students is next week. I can put your name down, and if you pass, which I'm sure you will, you can start next semester."

"Thank you," Spock says.

Pike waves a hand. "Don't mention it. My superiors are always talking about trying to get more Vulcans into Starfleet. They'll be thrilled."

Spock debates pointing out that he is only half-Vulcan, and decides against it. Vulcans see his human side, humans see his Vulcan side. It has always been that way, and if he is going to live among them he may as well embrace it. Pike turns back to his computer. "Just let me get your name on the list, and I can tell you the date and time of the exam."

Spock nods. He looks around the room while Pike works, taking everything in. His attention is caught by what looks like a model ship on a shelf across the room, and he gets up for a closer look.

"The USS _Enterprise_." Pike's voice rings out as Spock examines the ship, briefly startling him. "She's still being built – barely a skeleton at this point – but when she's finished she should look a little like that."

Spock has never understood why humans refer to inanimate objects as though they were sentient, but he doesn't comment. He is about to ask more questions about the so-called _Enterprise_ when there is a knock on the door.

"Hey, sir? I wanted to talk to you about-" The voice cuts off suddenly. "Oh, sorry. Didn't realise you had company."

Spock's heart begins pounding in his side. He knows that voice. Slowly he turns to see Jim Kirk standing in the doorway of Pike's office.

He can see the exact moment Jim recognises him, as the PADD he is holding falls from his hands and lands on the floor with a crash.

"Ah, Jim," Pike says. "This is-"

"You're alive," Jim interrupts, as if Pike hadn't spoken. His gaze is fixed on Spock as though he expects him to disappear any moment. A second later he is moving, rushing forward and sweeping Spock into a hug.

"You're alive," he mumbles into Spock's shoulder, arms squeezing tightly. "Oh my God, Spock, I thought you were _dead_."

"Apparently you two have met," Pike says dryly.

"Indeed," Spock replies absently, as he wraps his own arms around Jim's back.

After a moment Jim pulls away enough so they can look into each other's eyes. "I called your mom," Jim says, apparently not caring that they currently have an audience. "She told me…." He trails off, gaze flicking to Spock's wrists. "I guess I misunderstood."

It isn't difficult for Spock to figure out what must have happened, but it isn't a conversation he wants to have here and now. "I went to your apartment," he says instead. "A woman there told me that you moved out."

Jim nods. "Uhura got offered a post on the _Hood_, so I'm staying with Bones for a while." He smiles weakly. "I missed you."

"And I you," Spock replies.

They are interrupted by Pike clearing his throat, and both turn to look at him. His expression is stern, but his eyes are warm. "Obviously the two of you have a lot to talk about," he says. "Why don't you go get reacquainted, and we can pick this up later."

"That'd be great," Jim replies immediately, before frowning. "Pick what up?"

"I have decided to join Starfleet," Spock tells him.

"Really?" Jim asks, a smile spreading across his face.

Spock nods. "It seemed the logical option," he says, but lets his hand drift down and briefly brush against Jim's.

"I'm free around eleven hundred tomorrow," Pike says. "Come by then and we can get started on the paperwork."

"Understood," Spock replies, managing to tear his gaze away from Jim for a few seconds. "Thank you."

Pike smiles. "It's no problem. You two have a good day."

"We will," Jim promises.

Spock does not know how to thank Pike for everything he has done, so in the end he just nods and follows Jim out of the room.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Jim asks, as they make their way out of the building into the sunshine.

Spock shakes his head. He spent most of his money on the ticket to Earth, and he suspects what is left will not last long. "I am sure there are options-"

"Not necessary," Jim interrupts. "You can stay with me." His brow wrinkles briefly. "Bones might complain a bit, but he can shove it." He steps a little closer and bumps Spock's shoulder with his own. "I'm not letting you go again."

The words send a rush of warmth through Spock's body. No one has ever said such a thing to him before, as if he is too precious to let go of. "That would be appreciated," he says quietly. "Are you sure it will not cause strife with your friend?"

Jim shakes his head. "Nah. Bones grumbles a lot, but he's a big softie deep down. He'd never turn down a person in need." He glances at Spock. "We can go there now, if you want. You look kind of tired."

Spock nods slowly. It has been a long day – a long few months, if he is honest. "I am."

"Well, come on then," Jim says, gesturing ahead of them.

x x x

Jim and 'Bones's' apartment is slightly further from the Academy than his and Uhura's was, and in completely the other direction. It is on the ground floor – apparently Bones does not entirely trust elevators – and the number on the door proclaims it as 102. Jim runs his hand over a panel next to the door and ushers Spock inside as it slides open.

Spock's first thought is that the apartment is smaller than he was expecting, but despite that it seems… comfortable. A far cry from the sterile, characterless surroundings he experienced at Gol, or even the 'everything in its place' organisation of his parents' house. There is an unwashed bowl on the table, clothing strewn over the armchair and miscellaneous items shoved randomly into corners.

Beside him, Jim grimaces. "I know it's a bit of a mess," he begins, but Spock interrupts him.

"No," he says. "It's perfect." And he means it.

Jim stares at him for a moment, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Come on," he says, his voice warm. "Let me show you around."

He steps forwards, waving a hand at the room. "This is the living room."

Spock follows as he walks towards a door at the far side of the room. Opening it reveals a small kitchen, equally untidy. "That's the kitchen," Jim says unnecessarily. He doesn't go in, instead turning round and heading for the other door off the living room.

This one leads to a narrow hallway, with three doors. "That's the bathroom," Jim says, pointing at the door at the end. "Although there's no actual bath, so we have to make do with showers."

He gestures at the door in front of them. "This is Bones's room, and he's threatened to skin me alive if I ever go in there, so we'll leave it alone."

Spock eyes the door warily, wondering whether he actually wants to meet this Bones character. He sounds somewhat deranged.

"And this," Jim says, drawing Spock's attention back to him, "is my room." With a smile at Spock, he opens the door and disappears inside.

Spock approaches curiously. This bedroom is slightly smaller than the one he remembers from Jim's previous apartment, but it otherwise bears a striking resemblance. He wanders over to inspect a pile of electronic components on Jim's desk.

"I'm trying to build my own PADD," Jim says, coming to stand beside him.

Spock raises an eyebrow. "And how are you fairing?" he asks.

Jim shrugs. "Not as well as I'd hoped, to be honest. I was mostly just trying to keep my mind off-" He stops suddenly, eyes squeezing shut.

Spock stares at him in concern. "Jim?"

Jim opens his eyes and gives Spock a wavering smile. "I'm all right. It's just hard to believe this is real, you know? You're alive, and you're here, and-" He stops again, pressing his hands to his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says, and his voice is unsteady. When he lowers his hands, Spock can see his eyes are wet. "I just… I thought you'd killed yourself."

"I tried," Spock admits quietly, and pulls up his sleeve. He tenses as Jim reaches out to touch, fingers wrapping gently around Spock's wrist as his thumb brushes over the scars.

"I'm sorry," Jim says again, and the wetness in his eyes overflows and spills down his cheeks. "I should never have let you go." He lunges forward suddenly and wraps his arms around Spock. "Promise you won't do anything like that again," he mumbles. "I couldn't bear it."

"I won't," Spock promises, returning the hug hesitantly.

They hold each other for a moment longer, taking comfort in the closeness, before Jim pulls away. "This is stupid," he says, wiping at his cheeks. "You've been through hell and _I'm_ the one who's crying." He gives Spock a weak smile and adds, "I'm just… _really_ glad you're here."

"As am I," Spock replies, and dares to reach out and take Jim's hand. Even now, light years away from his father, it feels like rebellion.

"I sent your medallion back to your parents," Jim says. "When I thought you were…" He trails off briefly, then continues, "Did they tell you?"

"They did not have the chance," Spock replies, although he is no longer certain that it would have made a difference. He takes a sharp breath, forcing out the rest. "After… the incident, my father suggested I be sent to the monastery at Gol, to learn how to manage my emotions. I have had no contact with them since then."

Jim blinks. "So they don't know you're here?"

Spock shakes his head. "I imagine that by now the acolytes will have informed them of my disappearance, but anything beyond that will be speculation on their parts."

"Do you think they'll be worried?"

The question brings Spock up short. His mother will be, even if he cannot say the same for his father. He can still picture the look on her face when he woke up at the hospital, the tears in her eyes when they parted at Gol. For a moment he feels almost guilty, but then he remembers the past weeks of isolation and despair, waiting for comfort and reassurance that never came, and something inside him hardens. "Let them worry."

Jim's expression softens to one of sympathy, and he steps forward and wraps his arms around Spock. Spock leans into the touch, resting his head on Jim's shoulder as Jim's hand reaches up to stroke his hair.

"I'm sorry," Jim says quietly. "But just so you know, you're incredible just the way you are, and if your parents or anyone else can't see that then that's their problem."

"They tried to tell me this was wrong," Spock says into Jim's shoulder. "That _I_ was wrong."

"You're not," Jim tells him, still stroking his hair.

And, for the first time, Spock truly believes it.


	5. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Spock spends the time before the new semester working in one of the labs on campus. Jim and his friend Bones (actually called Leonard McCoy and considerably less violent than Jim described him) have both told him they're fine with him living with them, but Spock wouldn't feel comfortable if he didn't at least attempt to pay his own way.

He has never had so many people who care about him before. Jim's friends accept him easily as one of their own, and make sure to include him in their plans. (Doctor McCoy has even offered, discreetly, to remove the scars from his arms. Spock is still considering, but he is leaning towards taking the doctor up on it.) Captain Pike seems to have appointed himself Spock's unofficial advisor, and checks in on him often, to see how he is getting on. And of course Jim is always there, a constant comforting presence at his side, and, as their link grows, in his mind as well.

For the first time in his life, he doesn't feel alone.

With Jim's encouragement he sends a short message to his parents, telling them only that he is alive, and safe, and with Jim. He sends it from a throwaway account, and doesn't bother to look for a reply. He has given them enough information that they can track him down if they want to, what happens next is up to them.

There are times when the memory of what he has lost is a physical ache, times when it steals his breath or wakes him out of a deep sleep. But if he were offered the choice, he would do it all over again. He knows who he is now, and he likes who he is, and that is all that matters.

It may not be logical, but it is true.


End file.
